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Frontispiece 






MIC- 


The Lord Will Provide 


BY 

/ 

SARAH N. RANDOLPH. 



NEW YORK: 

ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & CO., 
770 Broadway, cor. 9th Street. 


Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1S72, by 
Anson D. F. Kandolph & Co., 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C 


E. 0. JENKINS, 

PRINTER AND STEREOTYPER, 
20 N. WILLIAM ST., N. Y. 


ROBERT RUTTER, 
BINDER, 

84 BEEKMAN STREET, N. Y. 


The Lord Will Provide. 


CHAPTER I. 

I N his handsome and richly -furnished 
house in Philadelphia, Mr. John Isham 
lay sick unto death. Dr. Rogers, who 
came in the morning to see him, looked 
very grave and sad as he turned away from 
his bedside ; and to Mrs. Isham’s anxious 
inquiry as to how her husband was, he re- 
plied, as he shook his head, “ No better, my 
dear madam, and I fear, unless there is some 
favorable change soon, we must look out for 
the worst.” 

Mrs. Isham’s heart sank within her as the 
doctor spoke ; she knew too well the agony 
that was in store for her. She was a tall, 

(3) 


4 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


graceful, aristocratic -looking woman, with 
the wearied, languid air of one who had 
long struggled with ill health. Her deli- 
cate health had long been a source of 
anxiety to her friends, and no one would 
have thought, on looking from her frail 
figure to her husband’s stalwart form, that 
he, the strong man, would be taken before 
his delicate wife. Yet so it was to be. 

The kind doctor was gone, and Mrs. Ish- 
am had sunk into an easy-chair beside her 
sick husband’s bed, her face buried in her 
hands, when she heard some one enter. 
The next minute she felt her son Harry’s 
strong arms thrown lovingly around her. 

“ Did you see the doctor before he left, 
Harry ?” she asked in a whisper. 

“ Yes, mother, dear,” he said, pressing 
his cheek to hers and feeling frightened at 
the deadly pallor of her face and the un- 
natural calmness of her manner. 

“ Did he tell you what he thought, my 
son ?” she asked, as she pointed to the bed. 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


5 


“Yes; he says there is still hope,” the 
young man replied, speaking in a whisper, 
and drawing his arms more closely around 
the feeble - looking frame that they encir- 
cled. 

“ There is none,” she said calmly. “ Do 
you not see the change that has already 
taken place in his looks. The fever is go- 
ing off, but his life is going with it.” 

The young man arose from his kneeling 
posture beside his mother and went around 
to the other side of the sick man’s bed. 
There he again knelt, and leaning forward 
looked long and anxiously into his father’s 
emaciated and suffering face. Unfamiliar 
as he was with the approaches of death, he 
was startled at the change that his mother’s 
anxious eye had so soon detected. There 
he lay, sleeping with his eyes half open ; his 
breathing was growing harder and harder ; 
the blood had settled around his lips, while 
his hands and forehead were clammy with 
the cold perspiration of death.’ “ Will he 
I* 


6 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


die in his sleep ?” thought Harry. “ Will he 
die without ever again speaking to us, or 
without our being able to speak to him, to 
tell him how much we have all loved him, 
and that he is the dearest and best of fath- 
ers.” But the sick man’s hands began just 
then to move nervously about as if grop- 
ing for something ; his eyes stared open 
suddenly, and, shining with the brilliancy 
as of a heavenly light, looked wildly around 
the bed for a second, until resting on Mrs. 
Isham’s sweet face, when their expression 
became one of tenderness and love. 

“ Mary,” the dying man said, as his looks 
continued fixed on his wife, “ Mary, I have 
had a beautiful dream. I dreamt that the 
time of my suffering here on earth was 
over ; that the angels who are to bear me 
to the bosom of our Heavenly Father had 
been sent to carry me home. I felt their 
presence around my bed, and I prayed, be- 
fore they took me hence, that I might be 
spared to say good-by to my wife and to my 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


7 


children ; and then I awoke, and here I am 
with you still.” 

Harry buried his face in the bed-clothes 
and stifled the sobs which shook his manly 
frame, while his mother, taking her hus- 
band’s hand and stroking it tenderly, said 
calmly, “Yes, still here, darling, but not for 
long, I fear.” 

“ Why do you say ‘ I fear,’ my dear wife ?” 
he said. “ I have not put off to this day to 
make my peace with God. I know that my 
Redeemer liveth. I feel His strong arms 
supporting me and know that He will be 
with me when I go through the dark valley. 
My only sorrow is for you.” 

“The same God who supports you will 
take care of us,” said Mrs. Isham ; and her 
voice trembled as she added, “You know 
He is the God of the widow and of the 
fatherless.” 

“ Yes,” he replied, “ and you must think 
more of my joy than of your sorrow. Only 
think — no more days and weeks of suffering 


8 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


and pain for me, but perfect rest and joy.” 
Then, stretching his head back upon the pil- 
low, his face beaming with love and joy, he 
said, as if beholding a heavenly vision, “ The 
heavenly host surround my bed, and death 
has lost its terrors.” 

After a pause, he turned to Harry and 
said, “ My son, see how a Christian can 
die. Do not put off being religious any 
longer. Seek the Saviour while you are 
young, and then as the cares and sorrows of 
life thicken upon you, you will find that 
you have a friend who sticketh closer than, 
a brother.” 

Harry bent over and kissed his father’s 
hand, and, then raising it, placed it on his 
own head. Mr. Isham smiled faintly, and said, 
“ God bless you my son, and make you a 
comfort to your mother.” He then asked 
for his other children, and Harry went out 
to bring them in. In'a few minutes he re- 
turned, carrying in his arms, the youngest, 
Kate, a beautiful flaxen-haired child, three 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


9 


years old, and the pet of the house ; while 
the eldest daughter, Margie, a child not 
more than thirteen years old, entered, lead- 
ing by the hand her little brother Johnny. 
Their father had been sick a long time, and 
the children bad been obliged to be very 
quiet and to go about the'hohse on tiptoe. 
They were very glad, then, when Harry 
came out and called them to come in and 
see their father ; but Margie, who was old 
enough to notice Harry’s distress, asked if 
he was very sick ; and the tears started to 
her eyes when he told her how ill he: was. 

Little Kate was too young to understand 
what death was, and after Harry had held 
her up to kiss her father, she held out to him 
a bunch of flowers which she had in her 
hand, and said, “ Oh, papa, smell my pretty 
flowers.” 

Mr. Isham smiled and said, “ Kate does 
not know what all this means.” 

Johnny and Margie then kissed him. Poor 
little Johnny looked very much frightened, 


IO 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


and clung to his mother’s skirts, while Mar- 
gie knelt close beside the bed and kept 
her eyes fixed upon her father’s face. Harry 
took little Kate out of the room, and while 
he was in the hall a servant came and told 
him there was a gentleman at the door who 
said he must see him. Harry accordingly 
went ; there he found Mr. Harvie, his fa- 
fher’s partner. 

“ How is your father?” he asked, excit- 
edly. 

My father is dying,” was Harry’s sad 
reply. 

“ Dying !” exclaimed Mr. Harvie, as he 
wrung his hands ; “ then Heaven help his 
wife and children and shaking Harry’s 
hand, he added, “ You will suffer now, my 
boy, as you never suffered before.” He 
then turned away abruptly and hurried off. 

Harry returned to the chamber of death. 
There he found the little group about the 
bed just as he left them ; but it was plain 
that his father was sinking rapidly, and that 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


II 


he had not long to live. . His breathing was 
now very hard, and each long-drawn breath 
was getting to be more and more a groan 
or a sigh. The time between them grew 
longer and longer. At last they thought 
his breathing had stopped, and poor Mrs. 
Isham gave a start; but the dying man 
made one more effort, drew another long 
breath, and turning his eyes towards his 
wife, bent his looks upon her and said, 
“ Mary.” The poor woman started up with 
a scream, and then fell fainting back in her 
chair. She had seen that her husband’s last 
breath had fled with that word. 

The funeral was all over. Mrs. Isham 
had followed her husband to his grave with 
her children clinging to her ; she had seen 
the coffin lowered into its last resting place, 
and heard the solemn words, “ Dust to dust, 
and ashes to ashes,” uttered over the re- 
mains of the husband she had loved so well ; 
and when the grave closed over him, she 
turned away, feeling that she had buried 


12 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


with him the brightest and happiest days 
of her life. That evening she was lying on 
her couch ; poor little Katy was playing 
about the room quietly, only stopping now 
and then to run to her mamma and kiss her 
pale face, or ask her why they had carried 
her papa away in that strange-looking car- 
riage, and how she was ever to get down 
into that steep grave to kiss him when she 
wanted to see him. Her mamma tried to 
make her understand that her dear papa 
was with Jesus in heaven, and that he was 
happy there, and she must try and be good 
that she might go there to him. Johnny 
was lying in his mother’s arms on the couch, 
where he had cried himself to sleep. Mar- 
gie was standing at her mother’s head, 
smoothing back from her brow her beauti- 
ful* hair, already streaked with gray, or 
kissing away the tears that now and then 
stole down her cheeks, when the door open- 
ed and Harry came in. He was pale and 
agitated ; his mother was frightened at the 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


13 


way he looked, and as he threw himself 
into a chair beside her and buried his face 
in his hands, she exclaimed, “ O Harry ! 
what is the matter now ?” 

“ Ruin, mother, ruin !” he cried out. 

“ Ruin, my son ?” she said, starting up ; 
“ ruin ? Do you mean that your father has 
left nothing to support us ?” 

“ He thought he had left us rich, dear 
mother,” he replied ; “ but while he was ill, 
Mr. Harvie went into a gold speculation, 
which has failed and utterly ruined them 
both ; it will take every cent that father 
left and more besides to pay his debts.” 

“ Then my children have no home as well 
as no father,” said Mrs. Isham mournfully. 

Harry again buried his face in his hands 
and was silent. Mrs. Isham fell back on 
her couch and waited for him to say what 
was to be done. At last he spoke, and told 
her that the house would have to be sold as 
soon as possible, and everything in it ; that 
all the furniture, plate, pictures, and, indeed, 


2 


14 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


almost all that they possessed, would have 
to go too. Then he went on to say that 
his father’s friends had advised him to move 
to one of the Western cities, where it was 
easier for a young man to rise in business 
than where he then was. The persons to 
whom Mr. Isham and Mr. Harvie owed 
money had also very kindly offered to let 
him have money enough to move his mother 
and her family out West and support them 
on until, he could get into business. 

Mrs. Isham felt that, under the circum- 
stances, this would be the best thing for 
them to do, and she told Harry that she 
would agree to any plan which his father’s 
friends might advise him to follow. She 
could not, however, recover from the shock 
which she had received on hearing of their 
sudden loss of fortune, and after Harry left 
the room she remained buried in melancholy 
thought. She looked sadly around her large, 
handsome room with all its comforts ;• its 
beautiful mirror and curtains ; its heavy, 


TOE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


15 


rich -looking carpets, and large luxurious 
easy-chairs, and then she thought that all 
that was to be exchanged for some plain 
room, scantily furnished, where, perhaps, she 
would be thankful, even with the strictest 
economy, to obtain a bare support, after 
having been all her life used to the luxuries 
of wealth. 

She thought of all this, and then when 
she felt the sharp pang through her chest 
as she coughed, she thought, too, of how 
quickly her health might give way when 
she had to struggle with adversity ; and then 
what was to become of her poor little chil- 
dren ? Who was to take care of them ? 
But she remembered her own words to her 
dying husband : “ You know He is the God 
of the widow and the fatherless and she 
took courage. She prayed to God for 
strength and hope ; she even felt thankful 
that He had taken her husband from her 
and spared him all the agony he would have 
suffered had he lived. While her heart was 


1 6 THE LORD WILL PROVIDES. 

filled with sorrow, and she was praying for 
comfort, she felt Margie’s little arms clasped 
round her neck, while her little mouth whis- 
pered in her ear, “ Mother, ‘ the Lord will 
provide.’ Don’t you remember that hymn 
you used to repeat to me, in which every 
verse ended with that? He will take care 
of us.” 

Mrs. Isham drew the child closer to her 
and kissed her as she told her she was glad 
that she had reminded her of that beautiful 
hymn, and she felt sure that God would 
take care of them. 

After a week or two, it was decided that 
the Ishams should move to St. Louis, where 
it was thought that Harry, with the letters 
of recommendation which he would take 
with him from his father’s friends, could 
soon get into business, and be able to take 
care of his mother and little sisters and 
brother. As it was now late in the fall, it 
was decided, too, that they had better set 
out for their new abode at an early day, that 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


1 7 


Mrs. Isham, in her delicate state of health, 
might not have to take the long, tedious 
journey in cold weather. So she had no 
time to spend in idle grief for her husband, 
or in vain regrets for the happiness of her 
past life ; she had to set to work to pack up 
such things as were to be taken with her, 
and to arrange to be sold those that were to 
be left behind. 

Margie was at her mother’s side all the 
time, and did all she could to aid and help 
her. She collected all her clothes and play- 
things and those of her little brother and 
sister. While her mother was packing her 
trunks, she stood by and handed everything 
to her. Poor little Johnny and Kate could 
not understand why things were being 
turned upside down. Katy wanted to know 
if they were “ going already to heaven to 
see dear papa and Johnny asked if ** 
“ mamma was going to remove into a big- 
ger and a prettier house.” Margie, who 
saw how much their questions distressed 


i8 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


her mother, told them not to worry her; 
and they ran back to their play wondering 
why Margie was so cross. 

At last Mrs. Isham finished her packing, 
after which she went round to take a last 
look at everything in the house. She went 
into the large, handsome parlor, where 
everything was so beautiful and so luxurious. 
There, placed by the fire, was her husband’s 
easy-chair ; there was her piano, with whose 
sweet tones she used to entertain him and 
her children in the long winter evenings. 
Everything looked so home-like and nat- 
ural — even the pictures seemed, from the 
walls where they hung, to smile down as 
sweetly upon her in her sorrow as they had 
done in the days of her joy. She went 
thus from one room to another, with the 
children running after her, they, too, uncon- 
sciously taking a farewell look at every- 
thing. 

Mrs. Isham had very few friends to take 
leave of, for her husband had been an Eng- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


19 


lish merchant in Liverpool, who had moved 
to America not many years before his death. 
Her delicate health had prevented her from 
going into society and forming new acquaint- 
ances, and Mr. Isham’s friends and acquaint- 
ances were among men actively engaged in 
business, whose thoughts were too much 
occupied with their own affairs for them to 
remember long the widow and her chil- 
dren. 

At length the day arrived which had 
been appointed for their departure for St. 
Louis. The carriage to take them to the 
depot drove to the door, and, with a heavy 
heart and a last sad look at the old home, 
Mrs. Isham got into it. Harry put the 
children in, and then jumping in himself, 
ordered the man to drive on. 




CHAPTER II. 

HE rain was falling fast when a car- 



-L riage, containing Mrs. Isham and her 
family, stopped before a small boarding- 
house in St. Louis. The little party were 
wearied and worn out with the long days 
and nights of tedious and unceasing travel. 
Poor Harry, who had been overworked in 
winding up his father’s affairs before he left 
Philadelphia,, and had set out on the long 
journey wearied in both body and mind, 
was even more fatigued at its close than his 
delicate mother, and, indeed, he looked so 
wretchedly that Mrs. Isham feared he was 
going to be ill, and was glad enough to 
reach the end of her journey. They se- 
lected the boarding-house to which they 
went because it was a cheap one, for now 


( 20 ) 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


21 


they had to practice the strictest economy 
in living. The money which Harry had to 
support them on until he could get into 
business was a small sum, and they knew 
that if that were all spent before he could 
get a place they would be penniless. 

They took two small rooms, and made 
themselves as comfortable as possible in 
them. After a week or two, Harry suc- 
ceeded, with great difficulty, in getting a 
place with a small salary, just as the money 
he had brought with him was nearly all 
gone. His mother, who was ever anxious 
about him, and who saw that he looked 
more and more wearied and fagged out 
every day, was afraid that he was not well 
enough to undertake any work yet awhile, 
but she knew that her children were depend- 
ent ©n him for their daily bread, and she 
could only bow her head in submission and 
hope for the best. 

They soon found that Harry’s small pay 
would not support them at their boarding- 


22 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


house, cheap as it was, and that some 
cheaper mode of living would have to be 
found. 

Harry and his mother thought over the 
matter, and determined that it would be best 
for them to get cheap rooms, and try and 
provide their own meals. He accordingly 
looked about, and found two small rooms in 
a house which was situated in a remote part 
of the town, and thither they moved. 

The house was a gloomy -looking one, 
and Harry felt sorry to be obliged to take 
his mother there, and thought she would 
be much shocked when she saw it. 

Mrs. Isham had determined, however, to 
make the best of everything ; and whenever 
her thoughts strayed back to the 'comfort- 
able home which she had left>in Philadel- 
phia, she remembered that, during our 
Saviour’s life, He had suffered for a place 
in which to lay his head. So, when she 
went up the dark, old staircase leading to 
the room which she was told was hers, she 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


23 


did not exclaim, “ Oh, how gloomy !” as 
she might well have done, but said how 
thankful she was to find a bright fire in it. 

The room was, indeed, a dark and gloomy 
one. It was without curtains and carpet, 
and the only window in it opened upon a 
dark and dirty-looking alley. Two or three 
chairs, a table and a large and a small bed, 
was all the furniture that it contained. 

Mrs. Isham, wearied with the fatigue of 
ascending the long flight of stairs, sank ex- 
hausted into a chair, while Katy and Johnny 
clung to her skirts and seemed to feel as if 
some new and terrible ’calamity had befallen 
them. Katy began to cry when Margie 
wanted to take off her little cloak and hat, 
while Johnny asked, hysterically, if he was 
never again to go back and live in their 
own nice house in Philadelphia. “And, oh, 
Margie,” he whispered to his sister, “are 
Katy and I to sleep in that ugly little bed ?” 

“ Yes, Johnny,” Margie said; “but you 
must not cry and be bad about it, for, if you 


24 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


do, God might get angry and take our dear 
mamma away from us and carry her to 
heaven as he has taken papa.” 

Poor Margie, who had, until now, had 
nothing to do but to try and cheer her 
mother up and to keep her company, soon 
found that there would be work enough for 
her little hands to do ; and while Harry had 
the trunks brought up-stairs, she was busy 
waiting upon her mother and the children, 
for Mrs. Isham was too delicate to do any- 
thing herself. 

Margie took off Katy’s wrappings and 
gave her some of her toys to play with. 
Then she turned to her mother and took 
from her her bonnet and shawl, and fixed a 
pillow at the back of the straight, hard chair 
she sat upon, to make it more comfortable 
for her. 

They had brought some provisions with 
them, and out of these Margie took some 
tea and bread. She did not know how to 
make tea, but Harry put a small tea-kettle 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


25 


full of water on the fire, and, when it was 
boiling, her mother showed her how to 
make the tea. So, at last, she had a cup of 
tea for her, after stooping before the fire 
until her little face was as red as a beet and 
she looked as hot as possible. 

After giving her mother a cup of tea, the 
children had their supper, and she kept 
them quiet, lest their noise should disturb 
their mother. But how was she to get 
Katy to bed without a cry. Every time 
the little thing looked at the coarse, hard 
bed waiting for her, she seemed to shudder 
and be filled with disgust at the thought of 
having to sleep on it. By degrees, however, 
Margie coaxed and persuaded her to lie 
down upon it, when she soon cried herself 
to sleep. Johnny then followed her ex- 
ample, and Margie, having thus fixed them 
for the night, went and sat down beside her - 
mother. 

Mrs. Isham, whose loving eyes had been 
following her all about the room, now 
3 


26 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


praised her for her kindness to her little 
brother and sister, and told her how thankful 
she was to see she could make herself so use- 
ful, and that she was sure she was going to be 
a comfort and support to her during her sor- 
rows and troubles. Margie felt very happy 
to know that what she had done had pleas- 
ed her poor, sick mother ; but she could not 
help wondering how she could ever be a 
support to her. She did not know, poor 
child ! how much even the least of us can 
do, if we will have patience and persever- 
ance, and continue to trust and hope in God, 
no matter how dark and troublous the days 
may seem to us. 

Mrs. Isham and her family had scarcely 
gotten fairly settled down in their new 
abode when they had a new trial to en- 
counter. Poor Harry, who had been strug- 
gling to keep off an illness ever since he 
had left Philadelphia, and who had to work 
very hard in his new place, became more 
and more drooping every day, and his 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 2 7 


mother saw, with an aching heart, what an 
effort he had to make every day to go to his 
work. Besides the agony which the bare 
possibility of his being sick was to her, she 
knew that if he were to get so, and his pay 
be stopped, they would be left penniless. 
As it was, he barely got enough to pay 
their room -rent and give *them supplies. 
They were too poor to keep a servant, and 
so little Margie had to work very hard to 
do all she could to save her mother, who 
was very sick sometimes and unable to do 
anything. At last Harry came home one 
night later than usual, and looked so wearied 
and pale that his mother was frightened at 
his appearance as he entered the room, and 
exclaimed, “ Oh, Harry, are you going to 
be ill too ?” 

“No, I hope not, dear mother,” he replied, 
trying to smile faintly, “ only this pain in 
my head is very bad just now and, as he 
sat down, he pressed both hands on his tem- 
ples and uttered a groan in spite of himself 


28 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


His mother felt sick at heart, for she re- 
membered that his father’s illness had begun 
with the same violent pain, but said nothing, 
and only wrung her hands in silent agony 
as she thought of their pitiable condition. 
She laid her hand on Harry’s forehead and 
found that it was dry and hot, and already 
his handsome face was flushed with fever. 
What was to be done ? If Harry, her last 
hope, was taken from her, how could she, 
weak and helpless as she was, struggle 
along and support her little children ? 

Margie saw her mother’s trouble, and was 
soon at her side to comfort and console her. 
“ Make him go to bed now, mamma,” she 
whispered, “ and perhaps he will be well in 
the morning?” 

But the morning came, and anxious 
though he was to return to his work, Harry 
had to agree that he was too sick to get up, 
and to yield to his mother’s entreaties to lie 

quietly in bed. 

And so things went on, day after day, for 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


2 9 


a week, each day Harry and his mother 
thinking that the next morning he would 
be better and able to get up, but the morn- 
ing finding him as sick, if not sicker, than 
the day before. In the meantime, the pro- 
visions they had were going fast, and as 
long as Harry was sick no money was com- 
ing in with which to buy more. The knowl- 
edge of this hung over Mrs. Isham like a 
nightmare, and unless Harry got well soon 
she could not imagine what would become 
of them, situated, as they were, in a strange 
city and without friends. 

One morning, after Margie had given 
Johnny and Katy their plain and scanty 
breakfast, and had prepared a cup of tea and 
a bit of toast for her mother, Mrs. Isham 
noticed that she had kept for herself only a 
crust of bread. 

“ Margie, my dear,” she said, “ are you 
sick ? Is that the reason you are not eating 
any more breakfast ?” 

“ Oh ! no, mamma,” replied Margie, try- 
3 * 


30 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


ing to look bright, “ you know I like crust.” 

The trouble, however, flashed through 
Mrs. Isham’s mind, and she asked if the 
bread was all gone. Then, for the first 
time, poor little Margie gave way, and 
bursting into tears, she said, “ Oh ! yes, 
mamma, and the meat too. What are we 
to do ? What are we to do ?” 

Her poor mother clasped her in her arms 
and told her not to cry so, or she would 
make Katy and Johnny cry too, for already 
they had stopped playing and were looking 
frightened. “And don’t you remember, my 
little daughter,” she continued, “how you 
reminded me the other day that ‘ The Lord 
will provide ?’ He is the same God yester- 
day, to-day and forever, and will not let us 
starve. Have you forgotten how he sent 
the ravens to feed Elijah ?” 

Margie soon dried her tears, and was 
comforted by her mother’s soothing words. 
Then Mrs. Isham began to think over the 
few trinkets and pieces of jewelry which 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


31 


she had been able tg keep, and to try and 
decide which should go first. She looked 
down at the wedding-ring on her white, 
thin hand, and said, with a sigh, “ No, that 
shall be the last !” She then told Margie 
to look in her trunk and bring her those two 
little red morocco boxes which were there. 

Margie did as her mother told her, and 
Mrs. Isham opened the larger of the two 
boxes. It contained a handsome gold 
bracelet. “ Oh, that was his gift, too!” she 
said, thinking of her dead husband ; and, 
with a sigh, she shut it and laid it aside. 
“ This will do, though,” she said, as she 
opened the second case, and saw that it con- 
tained a small pearl pin. 

“ Now, Margie, dear,” she said, “ if we 
can only sell this pin it will give us money 
enough to live on for a little while, perhaps 
even until Harry gets a place, but I shall 
not let the poor boy know that I have been 
obliged to sell my jewelry. How can I get 
it sold, though ?” she continued. 


32 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


Margie’s eyes sparkled, and her face 
flushed up, as she said, “ I will sell it, mam- 
ma. 

“ You/” cried her mother, looking at her 
with astonishment. “ Why, you are too 
young to undertake such a thing !” 

“ Oh, no, mamma, I am not,” she replied, 
eagerly. “ I can take it to a jeweler and 
sell it. I^am such a little thing no one will 
take any notice of me as I run along the 
street ; and, you know, you said I would be 
a support to you, and that will be being a 
support to you, will it not, mamma?” 

Mrs. Isham kissed her stout-hearted little 
girl, and the tears came into her eyes, as 
she replied, “Yes,” and reluctantly consent- 
ed to let her go. 

Margie hastened to put on her little black 
hood and cloak. Her mother sighed, as she 
tied the strings of her hood under her chin, 
to see how the past week’s troubles had 
chased the roses from her little daughter’s 
cheeks ; but her eyes were as beautiful and 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


33 


as bright as ever, and danced with delight 
at the prospect of being able to do some- 
thing for her mother. She took the little 
red morocco case, and, after kissing her 
mother good-bye, set out on her errand. 

When Margie got out on the street and 
found herself alone; when she began to 
think about what she had undertaken to do, 
and that she would have to go into the 
jeweler’s shop and speak to him by herself, 
she began to feel nervous and frightened. 
“ Suppose he asks me who I am,” she 
thought to herself, “ and I will have to tell 
him mamma’s name, then it might get into 
the papers, and oh ! it would be dreadful for 
all those rich people who used to know us 
to hear how poor we are.” Then as she 
saw the beautifully - dressed ladies going 
along the streets, she wondered if they 
knew she was taking her mamma’s pin to 
sell, and she held it close under her little 
cloak that it might not be seen. 

Indeed, poor little Margie’s courage began 


34 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


to fail her so fast as she thought of all these 
things, that she almost felt that her mother 
was right and she vvas too young for such 
an errand. She was half way inclined to 
turn round and run back home and tell her 
so, when the thought flashed through her 
mind that they would then have nothing to 
eat, “ and that would kill mamma/' she said 
to herself. “ Oh, I must not turn back now 
so the brave little girl pushed on. 

Margie did not know where she had best 
go to find a jeweler who would be likely 
to buy second-hand jewelry, nor did she 
know any one from whom she could inquire ; 
but she remembered that she had been told 
to go to a policeman and ask the way back 
home if she ever got lost on the street, so 
she thought she had better ask one to tell 
her where to take the pin. Across the 
street she saw one standing at the end of 
the next square. She mustered all her 
courage and went over towards him ; but 
when she got up to him, he looked so tall 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


35 


and big in his blue great-coat and brass but- 
tons, with his heavy stick in his white- 
gloved hands, that she felt almost afraid to 
speak. She spoke to him, however, and 
told him what she wanted. 

“You have a piece of jewelry to sell, 
have you ?” he said rather sharply, and 
looking at her very sternly. 

Poor little Margie did not know that, for 
a second, he suspected she might be a bad 
little girl who had stolen the pin and wished 
to sell it, but she answered, “ Yes, sir,” so 
gently, and* looked at him so steadily, with 
her eyes beaming so with truth and good- 
ness, that he felt sure she could never have 
done anything half so wicked. 

He spoke to her very kindly, and showed 
her where to go. 

“ Oh, thank you, sir,” she said, as she 
hurried off as fast as her little legs could 
take her, for she said to herself, “ Mamma 
will be frightened about me if I am not soon 
back.” 


36 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


When she got to the place where the 
policeman had sent her, she saw two or 
three jewelers’ signs hanging out. She 
went into one, but was so much frightened 
with the looks of a man with a horrid coun- 
tenance who stood behind the counter, and 
scowled so when he -turned round and saw 
her, that she ran out again as fast as she 
could. That man’s' looks gave her such 
a scare that she stood for a few min- 
utes on the pavement before she could 
make up her mind to go into the jewel- 
er’s shop next door. This time she went 
to the door, and looked in through the 
large plate-glass door before she ventured 
to enter. She saw no one within but 
a dried - up - looking little old man, and 
went in. 

“ What do you waijt, my little girl ?” he 
asked, in rather a kind tone. 

Margie’s voice trembled a little as she 
began to speak, and said, “ I have brought 
a little pearl pin belonging to my mother, 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 37 

which she sent me out to sell for her, and I 
want to know if you will buy it.” 

The little old man looked through his 
spectacles at her sternly for a second, just 
as the . policeman had done ; but though 
Margie’s heart was in her mouth, she look- 
ed steadily at him with her big bright eyes, 
without flinching. 

“ Let me see the pin,” the old man said 
at last. 

Margie took her little hand from under 
her cloak, and, standing on tip-toe, stretched 
her arm over the glass-case on the counter, 
and handed the little red morocco box to 
him. 

He opened it, and, after looking at the pin 
for a minute, looked over his spectacles at 
the child, and said, in a sharp, harsh tone, 
“ Your mother was rich once, I guess — eh ?” 

The tears started to Margie’s eyes, as she 
answered, meekly, “ Yes, sir.” 

“Ah, 1 thought so,” said the old man, 
taking the pin out and turning it so that he 
4 


38 


THE LORD WILL FROVIDE. 


was looking at it first in one way and then 
in another. “Well, how much does she 
ask for this?” 

Poor little Margie remembered then that 
her mamma had not told her how much she 
ought to get for the pin, and she had not 
the least idea how much she should ask. 
It was too late now, however, to run back 
to her mother to inquire, so she had just to 
say, “ I don’t know, sir.” 

“Ah, well,” said the old man, while he 
still turned the pin round in his hand, 
“ I guess I might give you ten dollars 
for it.” 

Now ten dollars was not half as much as 
it was worth, but to poor little Margie, who 
only thought how many nice rolls and crack- 
ers and what nice ham she could get with 
it and take home to her little sister and 
brother who had not had breakfast enough, 
and to her poor mamma, who looked so 
weak and sick, ten dollars seemed quite a 
little fortune to her. So, with a face radiant 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


39 


with joy, she said, “ I will take that, thank 
you, sir.” 

The old man gave her another look over 
his spectacles, and shutting the little pin up 
in its case, he turned towards his money- 
drawer. 

Margie thought he moved very slowly, 
and wondered Why he should stand leaning 
back in front of his drawer, feeling his chin, 
and looking down at his money, instead of 
giving her the ten dollars at once. “ Does 
he serve grown-up people this way,” she 
thought. Then she got frightened, and 
thought, may be, because she was so little, 
he was just going to keep the pin and not 
pay her anything. So she gave a little 
cough to let him know that she was still 
waiting; but the next minute he put his 
hand in the drawer and took out a ten-dollar 
note. “ There, my little girl,” he said, hand- 
ing it over to her, “ there is your money. 
Run home, now, and don’t lose it ; and tell 
your mother if she has any more jewelry 


40 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


like that to sell to send it to me and I will 
buy it.” 

Margie’s eager little fingers grasped the 
ten-dollar bill, and, holding it shut fast in 
her hand, started for home. 


CHAPTER III. 



HE old jeweler need not have told 


-L Margie to “run home,” for her own 
feelings made her hurry back to her dear 
mamma, who she knew would be uneasy 
until she got her safely back. She flew 
along the street. The passers-by turned 
and looked back after the little girl dressed 
in black, whose beautiful bright eyes and 
thoughtful little face had attracted their at- 
tention as she passed them. . She took no 
notice of any one, but, hurrying along, 
threaded her way easily through the crowd- 
ed streets, now slipping by under some big 
man’s elbow, or gliding almost unperceived 
between persons who were in her way. And 
so she sped along until she came to a baker’s 
shop not far from where her mother lived. 


(41) 


42 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


There she stopped, but was so out of breath 
when she entered that she had to wait a lit- 
tle before she could tell the big fat woman 
what she wanted. At last, she told her, and 
the poor child, who had had but a crust for 
her breakfast, looked with longing eyes at 
the nice rolls which she watched the woman 
putting up for her to take back home. 
When it was ready she received the bun- 
dle, and the woman handed her the change 
left from the ten dollars she gave her. 

A few minutes’ walk now brought Margie 
to the door of the house where her mother 
lived. The excitement of her errand and 
the run home, together with hunger, had 
been almost too much for the poor child ; 
and when she reached the foot of the stair- 
case leading to her mother’s room, she felt 
as if she had scarcely strength enough to go 
up ; but she said to herself, “ I must come 
back to mother with a bright face so she 
started to run up. Her mother’s anxious 
ear heard the sound of her first footfall on 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


43 


the steps, and as she was too weak to move, 
she told Johnny to open the door for his 
sister, while she almost held her breath in 
her anxiety to hear whether she had suc- 
ceeded in selling the pin. Johnny opened 
the door and exclaimed, “ Oh ! here she is, 
sure enough, mamma, with a great bundle 
in her arms and the next minute Margie’s 
wearied-looking but smiling face was seen 
in the open door. Mrs. Isham could scarce- 
ly restrain a cry of delight when she saw 
her little darling safely back. 

“ Here I am, mamma,” Margie said cheer- 
ily, “ and see what nice rolls I have brought 
for our dinner and supper.” 

“ Then you sold the pin, my dear little 
daughter,” her mother said to her. 

“ Yes, mamma,” she replied ; “ and only 
think, the man paid me ten dollars for it !” 

Mrs. Isham was shocked to hear that she 
had not received more for it ; but she would 
not say so, for she knew it would trouble 
Margie, and, moreover, she felt that it was 


44 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


her fault, as she had not told her how much 
to ask. Margie took off her little hood and 
cloak, and throwing her arms around her 
mother’s neck whispered, as she kissed her, 
“ You see, mamma, the ‘ Lord will provide ’ 
always.” Her mother’s heart was too full 
to say anything as she folded her arms lov- 
ingly around her little daughter. 

Johnny and Katy were already pulling at 
the bundle of rolls, and crying for some to 
eat, when Margie turned round from her 
mother’s embrace. She soon fixed a nice 
dinner for them, and felt more than repaid 
for all she had been through that day when 
she looked at their happy faces as they sat 
by the fire enjoying their simple meal. Her 
little heart was soon saddened, however, 
when her mother told her that Harry had 
been sicker than usual all day, and she feared 
he was still growing worse. Mrs. Isham 
went back into Harry’s room, and when she 
came out again Margie knew, from her sad 
look, that she must be very much frightened 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


45 


about him ; and she asked her why she did 
not send for a doctor, not knowing-, poor 
child, that Mrs. Isham had been wishing for 
one ever since Harry had been first taken 
sick, but that hoping he would soon be well, 
she had feared to send for one on account 
of the expense. Now, however, she felt that 
she must have medical aid, and she express- 
ed her regret that there was no one whom 
she could send out for a physician at that 
late hour. “ But I will go for a doctor early 
in the morning, mamma,” Margie said, as 
she drew closer to her mother, and putting 
her arms around her tried to comfort her. 

Mrs. Isham had to be satisfied with the 
hope of getting a physician as soon as pos- 
sible the next day, and returned to Harry’s 
room to resume her place beside his sick 
bed. The long hours of the night of watch- 
ing moved slowly along, and Mrs. Isham’s 
anxiety about her son was’greatly increased 
as she listened to his moans, and saw him, 
in the restlessness of a burning fever, toss 


46 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


from side to side. Fortunately his little 
room opened into hers, and now and then 
during the still watches of the night, Mar- 
gie slipped in to keep her mother company 
and to cheer her up ; but Harry was very 
ill, and it frightened Margie to see him 
lying there with his large black eyes wide 
open, and shining so that they looked like 
coals of fire beneath his dark brows. 

Early in the morning, as soon as there 
were any people stirring on the street, this 
brave little girl was up and dressed, with 
her hood arid cloak on, ready to go out. 
Harry had fallen asleep at last, and she 
opened the door softly and tripped lightly 
down stairs, that she might not wake him. 
Her little teeth chattered, and she drew her 
cloak closely around her slight little figure 
as the sharp, winter’s morning breeze met 
her when she opened the street door. She 
had not thought much where she was to go 
to get a doctor, but only had a vague recol- 
lection of having seen a Dr. somebody’s 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


47 


sign — she could not even remember his 
name — not many squares off, and thither 
she bent her steps. The cold pavement 
seemed almost to freeze her feet as she went 
along, and the people on the street looked 
astonished to see such a little thing out so 
early on such a cold day. Margie’s thoughts 
were too much occupied, however, for her 
to notice anything except the signs along 
the street. At last, after walking several 
squares, she saw above a door the sign of 
Dr. Smith ; she ran quickly up the step and 
rang the bell, but the house seemed not to 
have been opened for the day, and she could 
hear no one stirring. She rang a second and 
third time, and as she stood stamping her 
half-frozen feet on the cold marble step, she 
said to herself; “ Ah, if they only knew how 
ill Harry is, and how bitter cold it is out here, 
they would not keep me waiting so.” Just 
then the door opened, and a sleepy-look- 
ing servant appeared and asked what she 
wanted. 


43 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


“ I want the doctor,” Margie said, while 
her teeth chattered as she spoke. 

“ But the doctor’s not up yet,” replied 
the servant. 

“ Oh, but I must see him before I go !” 
said Margie, almost hysterically. 

“ I will let him know what you say,” said 
the man, and he was about to shut the door 
on poor little shivering Margie, but on sec- 
ond thought told her to come in and wait 
in the hall. 

She followed him in, and was thankful to 
find herself standing by a register, where 
the hot air, pouring up from the furnace, 
soon warmed her. In the meantime, the 
servant went up-stairs, and came down to 
say that the doctor would soon be down, 
and he pushed a chair up' and bade her be 
seated. Through the open doors, Margie 
caught glimpses of handsome, comfortable- 
looking rooms, which made her think of 
her old home in Philadelphia, and she was 
wondering if she would ever be as happy 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


49 


again as she was there, when she heard 
some one coming down stairs, and looking 
up, saw the tall, thin figure of Dr. Smith. 
He lojoked at her with some surprise for a 
minute or two, and then asked : 

“ Are you the messenger who has come 
for me ?” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Margie ; “ and, oh ! if 
you please, I want you to come with me 
directly, and see Harry.” 

“ And who is Harry, my little lady ?” 
said the doctor, with an amused look on his 
face. 

“ Harry ? why, he is my brother, and he 
is very ill, and mamma is afraid he has a 
fever, like the one which poor papa had 
when he died ; so she wants you to come at 
once. I will show you the way.” 

The doctor looked wonderingly at the 
little girl as she spoke, and then putting his 
warm wrappings on, told her he was ready 
to go. 

Margie jumped up, and they set out for 

5 


50 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


her mother’s home. The kind doctor took 
her by the hand, after going a square, and 
told her he could not keep up with such a 
fast walker — for Margie was almost running 
— and then he asked her how long her papa 
had been dead, and seemed very much sur- 
prised to hear that she had ever lived in a 
handsome house, and still more surprised 
to find that she was living then in such a 
dismal-looking one. 

When they reached the house, Margie 
showed him straight up-stairs. There she 
found Johnny and Katy asleep in their little 
bed, just as she had left them. She crept 
into Harry’s room, and whispered to her 
mother that the doctor had come ; must 
she bring him in right away ? 

Mrs.. Isham said “ yes,” and in another 
minute he was in the room. He looked 
very grave as he felt Harry’s pulse and 
watched his breathing, and asked how long 
he had been ill. When Mrs. Isham an- 
swered only one week, he shook his head, 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


51 


and said, “ Longer than that, madam ; I fear 
he has kept up longer than he. ought to 
have done.” 

Harry opened his eyes, and stared wildly 
at the doctor, and then dropped off to 
sleep again. The doctor prescribed for 
him, and, when he left, told Mrs. Isham that 
he would be back again in a few hours. 

Poor little Margie had dressed Johnny and 
Katy, and was giving them their breakfast, 
when her mother called her to her, and 
asked her if she thought she could go to 
the druggist’s and get some medicine for 
Harry. 

“ Yes, indeed, mamma,” she answered. 

Mrs. Isham then gave her the doctor’s 
prescription, and told her to take it, with 
the money she handed her, to the druggist’s, 
and he would give her the medicine. 

Margie gave Johnny and Katy their toys 
and playthings, and charged them not to 
make any noise while she was gone, for if 
they did, it would make Harry very ill, and 


52 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


distress mamma, too, and then put on her 
wrappings and went out once more on the 
cold street. This time she had no trouble, 
and was now getting so used to going out 
alone, that she did not feel frightened, as at 
first. 

She was soon back with the medicine, 
and spent the rest of the day amusing 
Johnny and Katy, to keep them quiet, slip- 
ping in now and then, to see her mother 
and Harry. It frightened her to go into 
Harry’s room, however; for, if he was 
asleep, his hard breathing made her think 
of that last dreadful day in poor papa’s 
room ; and when he was awake, he stared 
at her so, or looked so wildly about, that 
she almost felt afraid to be in the room with 
him. Little Katy, too, would ask questions 
which almost made Margie feel sick with 
fear of what might happen. 

“ Is Harry going to heaven to see papa?” 
Katy would ask ; or “ Will they carry 
him out to that same beautiful place, with 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 53 


all that nice green turf, and those pretty 
trees ?” 

“ Oh, Katy, you must not ask such ques- 
tions as those,” Margie said ; “ don’t you 
know you will make mamma cry if you 
do?” 

After a few days Margie found that the 
money she had received for the pearl pin 
was nearly all gone, and the provisions she 
had bought had been all consumed, too. 
She told her mother what the old jeweler 
had said about sending him any more jew- 
elry she might have to sell, and asked her 
if she must not take the gold bracelet to 
him. 

Mrs. Isham sighed as she told her yes ; 
but that he must give more for the bracelet 
than he had given for the pin. 

Margie took the bracelet and set out for 
the jeweler’s. He spoke to her kindly, and 
agreed to take the bracelet ; but Margie 
would not let him have it for less than 
twenty dollars, which, after a little grumb- 
5 * 


54 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


ling, he at last gave. The poor child flew 
home, thinking she had quite a little fortune, 
sure enough, this time. But when she got 
home, she found a strange man sitting in 
her mother’s room. He was the man who 
the house belonged to, and had come to 
collect his rent. Mrs. Isham told Margie 
she must pay him out of the twenty dollars 
she had, and, as the rent was ten dollars, it 
took just half. Still she kept up her cour- 
age, and thought if Harry would only get 
well she would ask for nothing more ; but 
it frightened her to see him getting worse 
every day, and her poor delicate mother 
was giving way under the nursing she had 
to do, and Margie saw she could not stand 
it much longer. She felt thankful, there- 
fore, when one of the lodgers on the first 
floor, Mrs. Hopkins, a kind-hearted wo- 
man, came up and offered to assist in nurs- 
ing Harry during the day. She hoped that 
this might enable her mother to hold out, 
and not be made sick herself. 


CHAPTER IV. 


ARRY had been sick for nearly two 



_] L weeks, and his mother had nursed 

him night and day, except when Mrs. Hop- 
kins came up to relieve her now and then. 
At last she grew so weak that she could not 
sit up, and was obliged to lie in bed. Mrs. 
Hopkins came up that morning to stay with 
Harry, but Mrs. Isham felt that some ar- 
rangement must be made by which he 
should not suffer, so she determined to con- 
sult the doctor, and leave him to act for her. 
She suspected what he would advise, but 
felt she must agree to anything which would 
be best for her son. When the doctor came 
Mrs. Isham told him that her strength h.ad 
failed entirely, and that she could no longer 
even sit by her sick son’s bedside, nor could 


( 55 ) 


56 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


she get the proper food_for him to take. 
“ What would you advise me to do, doc- 
tor ?” she said, clasping her thin hands as if 
in despair. The tears rose to the good doc- 
tor’s eyes as he looked at her and thought 
of her sick son in the next room, whose 
strength was steadily wasting away in spite 
of all his medical skill and attention. At 
last he spoke and told her that the only 
thing he could think of was for her to send 
Harry to a hospital, where he would receive 
every attention, and suffer for nothing. 
“ That is just what I thought you would 
say,” she said, half reproachfully ; “ and 
though I feel that when my darling boy is 
carried down those stairs it will be never 
to return, yet I must say, ‘ God’s will be 
done,’ and let him go.” 

So it was decided that to the hospital 
Harry should be sent, and the doctor made 
all the arrangements necessary. It was not 
very far off, and Margie could run over to 
see him as often as she chose, and his moth- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


5 7 


e*r, loo, when she got better ; but Mrs. Ish- 
am shook her head, as if she never expected 
that to be. 

That evening four strong men came up 
into Mrs. Isham’s rooms with a litter or 
light single bed. Harry was too ill to know 
what they were doing, and did not utter a 
sound when they took him up and laid him 
on the litter. As they passed through Mrs. 
Isham’s room the poor woman raised her- 
self in her bed and took a last look at her 
son. Margie was all ready to walk beside 
the litter and go with Harry to the hospi- 
tal ; but as the men took him out through 
the door, she saw her mother drop back in 
the bed, and with one bound she was at her 
side. Mrs. Hopkins heard Margie scream, 
and running in found Mrs. Isham had faint- 
ed. With great difficulty she and Margie 
brought her back to life and consciousness ; 
but she was too sick for Margie to leave her 
that day, and so she could not go with 
Harry. 


53 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


The next morning Doctor Smith calldd 
at an early hour to see Mrs. I sham ;• she 
asked eagerly after Harry, and the doctor 
looked very sad as he shook his head and 
said, “ no better.” “ And I too ill to go to 
him,” said Mrs. Isham, as she wrung her 
hands. 

The doctor told Margie he would take 
her to the hospital and show her the way if 
she would go. Little Margie looked in- 
quiringly at her mother, who told her to go. 

The good doctor took . Margie in his lit- 
tle carriage, and in five minutes they had 
stopped in front of a large building, with a 
small yard in front which was entered 
through an arched gateway closed by two 
tall iron gates. Everything about the place 
looked as neat and well-kept as possible, 
and the death-like stillness which pervaded 
the whole almost frightened the little girl. 
The doctor took her by the hand and led 
her up first one long flight of stairs and then 
another, until they reached the third story. 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


59 


There they walked down a narrow passage 
with, little rooms, containing one bed, on 
each side. The doctor asked the doorkeeper 
to take them to No. 288, and they passed 
on to the extreme end of the passage. Mar- 
gie held the doctor’s hand tightly as she 
walked along and saw so many sick people 
on each side of her. The door to Harry’s 
room, like most of the others, was open, 
and she and the doctor entered quietly. 
Harry was asleep, but his eyes were half 
open and his cheeks flushed. His beautiful 
hair had fallen back from his now hollow 
temples, and Margie would scarcely have 
recognized, in the emaciated frame before 
her, the fine, stalwart figure of her once 
handsome brother. The poor child clung 
to the doctor as they both looked at him. 

At the head of the sick youth’s bed sat 
the nurse, a woman with soft-looking eyes 
and a beautiful countenance, apparently 
about thirty-five years old. She was dress- 
ed in black with a white collar, and wore a 


6o 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


white apron. At her side stood a little ta- 
ble, which was covered with bottles and 
glasses. The woman looked at Margie with 
pitying tenderness, and pointing to Harry 
asked her in a whisper if she was his sister. 
Margie nodded her head in reply, and the 
woman gave her a chair. Margie heard the 
doctor ask if there was any change, and the 
woman replied, “ None, except, if anything, 
he is a little weaker.” 

The doctor shook his head mournfully, 
and then patting Margie on the head, told 
her she could stay with her brother as long 
as she chose, as she would have no difficulty 
in finding her way back home. 

The nurse told Margie she had better 
take off her things, and then she untied her 
hood and unfastened her cloak and laid 
them aside. She told Margie that she had 
other patients on that floor to nurse besides 
Harry, but as he was sicker than any of the 
others, she stayed most in his room. Mar- 
gie sat for a long time with her little hands 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


6l 


joined and lying in her lap, her feet resting 
on the round of the chair, and her eyes 
fixed on her brother’s face. She was think- 
ing about him, and the happy days she had 
spent with him ; how good he had been to 
her ; and how, when she was a little thing, 
he used to pick her up and run all about 
with her, playing he was her horse, and 
that he was running away. Then she re- 
membered, too, how glad she used to be 
when he got back from school every day, 
and how handsome he would look when he 
would come in from skating, with his cheeks 
all aglow. She wondered how the fever 
could have changed his looks so much ; and 
that the pale and emaciated face before her 
could be that of the brother, who had al- 
ways looked the picture of health. After 
awhile Margie turned to the nurse, who 
had been watching her little thoughtful- 
looking face, and asked, in a whisper : 

Does the Doctor think Harry is going 
to get well ?” 

6 


62 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


“ He has never told me whether he 
thought he would,” the woman replied, 
softly. 

Margie looked back at Harry, and then 
turning again to the nurse, she began : 

“ Well, do you think” — but just then the 
woman laid her finger on her lips and 
pointed to Harry. 

Margie looked and saw that he was 
stirring. He moved his head uneasily 
about on the pillow, and, after opening and 
closing his eyes once or twice, he turned 
and fixed them on the nurse. She saw that 
he was awake, and told Margie to stand in 
front of him so he could see who she was. 
Margie crept softly close to the bed and 
took his hand. The fire had all gone from 
his eyes now ; they did not look as fiercely 
at her as they had done when she had seen 
him in his own bed at home. They looked 
very gentle and beautiful ; but oh ! he look- 
ed so weak, and Margie wondered why he 
breathed so hard and looked so much like 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


63 


t er dear papa on that last day she had seen 
him. He turned his eyes upon her; and 
when she spoke, and said “ Harry !” he 
smiled, and said : “ Is that you, little wom- 
an ?” And then looking round at the strange 
room, he asked, “ What place is this?” for 
he was delirious when they took him to the 
hospital, and, of course, did not know that 
he had been moved. # 

“ This is a nice big house,” said Margie, 
“ where they send sick people when there is 
nobody at home to nurse them ; and you 
know,” said Margie, “that mother got so 
sick she could not nurse you ; so they came 
for you and brought }^ou to this nice little 
room.” 

“And how did you get here, Margie ?” 
Harry asked, speaking very low, for he was 
so weak he could scarcely talk. 

“ Mamma sent me to see how you were,” 
replied Margie. 

The n ;.rse then shook her head at Mar- 
gie to show that she must not talk any more ; 


64 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


and, taking up a glass, she gave Harry some 
brandy and water. In a little while a doctor 
came in, and, after feeling his pulse and put- 
ting his hand on his heart, he turned away, 
shaking his head mournfully as the nurse 
looked inquiringly at him. 

“ Give him the brandy,” Margie heard 
him say to her ; “ give him the brandy ; that 
i^ all you can do for him ; but I do not 
think he can last many days longer.” 

Margie was frightened at seeing the doc- 
tor look so grave ; and what did he mean 
by “ not lasting many days longer ?” 

“ Oh, is Harry to die, too ?” she asked 
herself. 

She told the nurse she could not stay any 
longer, • but must hurry back to tell her 
mother how her brother was, and then 
asked if she could not come back again in 
the afternoon. 

The nurse was very kind to her, and told 
her to come whenever she pleased, and that 
she had better come often. Then she helped 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


65 


her on with her cloak and hood, and, after 
kissing Harry, Margie set out for home. 
She ran as fast as she could, being fright- 
ened at what the doctor had said, and want- 
ing to ask her mother what he meant. 

She entered her mother’s room, and found 
her propped up in bed with her Bible open 
before her. 

“ How is Harry ?” Mrs. Isham asked, al- 
most before Margie was fairly in the room, 
for she had heard her little feet flying up 
the stairs. 

“ Oh, mamma, he is very, very sick,” said 
Margie, as she climbed upon the bed beside 
her mother. “ His face looks so white ; 
and when I kissed his forehead, it felt so 
cold ! and, mamma, I heard the doctor order 
the nurse to give him brandy. And what 
did he mean when he said he would n’t last 
long ?”. 

Mrs. Isham shuddered and wrung her 
hands in agony when Margie asked this 
questi on, and then the poor child knew too 
6 * 


66 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


well what it meant, and exclaimed, “ Oh, 
mamma ! then he did mean death ?” 

“Yes, death, my child!” replied Mrs. 
Isham, recovering her composure ; “ the 
death of our dear Harry. But did our darling 
know you ? Did he speak to you, Margie ?” 

Oh, yes, mamma,” replied Margie, “ he 
spoke to me and smiled when he saw me ; 
and his eyes looked so beautifully !” 

For a minute or two Mrs. -Isham lay with 
her eyes closed, and her pale lips moved 
silently as she prayed for strength to bear 
this new blow ; then, after a pause, she said, 
“ Is the hospital very far off, Margie, dear? 
and are you very, tired after your run 
home ?” 

“Oh, no, mamma,” Margie said, trying to 
be cheerful ; “ and the kind nurse told me 
I had better come often to see my sick 
brother.” 

“ Then you would not mind running back 
to take a message to him ?” asked her moth- 
er, anxiously. 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE* 


6 / 


“ No, indeed !”' said Margie, as she stretch- 
ed out her hand to take up her little hood 
that she had pulled off and thrown on her 
mother’s bed. 

“ Go and sit by his bed, Margie,” Mrs. 
Isham began ; “ and when he wakes and 
looks at you with those beautiful eyes of 
his, tell him that his mother knows how ill 
he is, and that she has sent you to tell him 
good-bye.” Here Mrs. Isham ’s voice trem- 
bled and she almost sobbed, but she soon re- 
covered herself, and, continuing, said, “And, 
oh ! Margie, tell him not to fear death, but to 
look to Jesus and all will be well; and here, 
take this Bible and read to him from the 
places which I have marked.” 

Poor Margie took the book from her 
mother’s feeble hands, and, with a swelling 
heart, was once more out on the street. 

“ Poor Harry !” she said to herself, as she 
hurried along, “what will we do without 
you, and who will take care of mamma and 
of all of us if you go too ?” Then a faint 


68 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


smile passed over her face, and she said, 
shaking her head knowingly, “ He will do 
it, He will do it! ‘The Lord will pro- 
vide.’ ” 

Once more she stood in front of the great 
hospital, with its long rows of windows. 
She passed through the wide gateway, and 
the doorkeeper gave her a friendly nod as 
he let her in. One after the other, she went 
up the long flights of stairs, until, by the 
time she reached the floor on which Harry’s 
room was, her little knees ached so, and she 
was so out of breath, that she sat on the top 
step, and, burying her face in her hands, 
sat there until she heard some one coming. 
She glided softly down the long passage 
until she reached the door of Harry’s little 
room, and then stopping, peeped in through 
a crack of the door before she entered. 

The sick man was alone, and apparently 
sleeping quietly ; the nurse had left him, to 
attend to some of her other patients. 

Margie crept gently into the room, and, 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


69 


taking off her hood and cloak, sat down to 
watch her brother and wait until he awoke. 
His breathing was not hard now, and his 
sleep was so quiet, that, for a minute, Margie 
was frightened lest he should have died 
while asleep. Soon, however, he began to 
move, and then, after staring wildly at 
Margie for a few seconds, he smiled, and 
said, “ That is you, little woman, is it? You 
have come again, have you ?” 

“Yes, darling Harry!” Margie replied. 
“ Mamma sent me to give you a message. 
Oh ! Harry, do you know how very, very 
ill you are ?” 

He seemed startled, and, after a pause, 
looked her steadily in the eye, and said, 
“Am I dying, Margie?” 

Margie turned very pale, and she felt a 
sob rising in her throat, but she choked it 
down, and trying to be quiet, said, “ I am 
afraid, so, Harry ; but mamma says I must 
tell you not to be afraid, but to look to 
Jesus, and all will be well. And, oh ! Harry, 


7 o 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


cant you do that?” she exclaimed, almost 
bursting into tears. 

Harry’s eyes rolled back, and he looked 
terrified for an instant, and then recovering 
himself, he lay quite still for a little while 
with his eyes shut, then, opening them, he 
asked, softly, “ Margie, what did mother 
say ?” 

“ She said,” replied Margie, “ ‘ Tell Harry 
good-bye, and not to fear death, but to look 
to Jesus and all will be well.’ ” 

“ I must look to Jesus, Margie?” he again 
asked. 

“Yes, that was what mamma said,” she 
replied. 

Harry was again silent, and then he tried 
to take Margie’s little hand in his own, 
which was already trembling and cold with 
the dew of death. 

Margie took it, and, bending over him, 
listened as his weak voice asked : “ Margie, 
can’t you pray ?” 

“ Yes, I can say the Lord’s Prayer, 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


7 1 


Harry,” she said ; and, kneeling down, she 
began, in her clear, sweet, childish voice — 
“ Our Father, which art in heaven,” and said 
the whole prayer ; then she paused for a 
second, and soon went on and said, “ O 
God ! help Harry to look to Jesus, as 
mother tells him, and send your angels to 
take him to heaven, where dear papa is ; 
and this I beg for Jesus’ sake.” 

When she rose from her knees, Harry 
said, “ Did mother tell you anything more 
about Jesus, Margie?” 

“ No,” she replied ; “ but she gave me her 
'Bible to read to you in the chapters which 
she has marked. And now listen, Harry,” 
she continued, as she opened the book, 
“ this is the first place : ‘ Let not your heart 
be troubled : ye believe in God, believe also 
in me.’ Jesus says that to you, Harry,” 
Margie said ; “ and oh, this too,” she cried, 
as she read, “ ‘ In my Father’s house are 
many mansions: if it were not so, I would 
have told you * and I go to prepare a place 


72 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


for you, that where I am there ye may be 
also/ So you see, Harry,” Margie said, 
“ He has a place all ready for you ; and 
where He is, there you will be.” 

“ But, Margie,” Harry asked anxiously, 
while his breath seemed to be getting 
shorter and shorter, “ Margie, does it say 
that Jesus will save such a vile sinner as I 
am ? Look quick, Margie, and see !” 

“Yes, dear Harry!” she exclaimed, al- 
most joyfully, “ here it is in the very next 
place that mamma has marked ;” and she 
read : “ ‘ For Jesus came into the world to 
save sinners ;* and here the next place, 
says, ‘Ask and it shall be given you, seek 
and ye shall find, knock and it shall be 
opened unto you ; for every one that asketh 
receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and 
to him that knocketh it shall be opened/ ” 

“ Thank you, dear Margie !” Harry said, 
as she finished ; “ thank you for reading me 
those precious words !” 

Poor little Margie felt thankful when 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


73 


she saw how peaceful and quiet Harry’s 
face looked, now that she had read to him 
about Jesus, and she thought to herself, 

“ He must be ‘ looking to Jesus ’ now.” 

Harry laid still for a long time, and noth- 
ing was neard in the little room but the 
sound of his short, quick breathing ; but 
Margie saw his lips moving, and knew that 
he was praying. At last he spoke, and said, 

“ Margie.” 

She bent her ear down to him, and he 
said : 

“ Would you mind running home, little 
woman, to tell mamma that I am looking to 
Jesus ?” 

“ No, indeed !” Margie cried ; “ I will be 
so glad to tell her !” 

“ And will you come back soon ?” he 
asked, anxiously. 

“ Yes, right away,” she replied ; and her * 
bonnet and cloak were soon put on again, 
and away she went. 

“ Mamma !” Margie cried, as she ran into 

7 


74 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


her mother’s room, “ mamma ! Harry has 
sent me to tell you that he is looking to 
Jesus !” 

“ Thank heaven!” Mrs. Isham exclaimed, 
clasping her hands ; “ and he is still living?” 

“Yes, mamma; but he looks more and 
more like papa did when he died.” 

Margie soon told her mother all about 
her reading to Harry, and that she had 
promised to go back to him at once. Her 
mother was afraid that running backwards 
and forwards so much would make her sick, 
but Margie would not hear of it, and after 
resting a little while, went back to the hos- 
pital. She found Harry getting weaker 
and weaker. The nurse had returned to 
his room, and did not leave him at all, now. 
He smiled when he saw Margie come in, 
and tried to hold hfs hand out to her. She 
put her little hand in his, and shuddered 
when she felt how cold and clammy it was. 

The good nurse sat by the bed-side, and 
held little Margie on her knee, with her 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


7 5 


arms around her. She felt sorry for the lit- 
tle girl, and wondered, as she looked at her 
delicate features, how it happened that her 
brother had been sent to the hospital ; she 
did not know in what miserable rooms her 
mother was living, nor how poor she was. 
Margie spent the rest of the day at the 
hospital with Harry. He was so weak that 
he could say but little. Once he asked 
Margie to open the Bible, and see if his 
mother had not marked some place that 
she had not read to him in the morning. 
She opened the good book, and found a 
mark at the twenty-third Psalm, which she 
read to him, and when she read, “Yea, 
though I walk through the valley of the 
shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for 
thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff 
they comfort me,” he smiled, and nodding 
his head, said : 

“ Yes, that’s it, that’s it.” And after a 
little he said to Margie : 

“ When you go back, little woman, tell 


;6 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


mother I have looked to Jesus, and all is 
well ; and, Margie dear, the angels you 
prayed God to send for me will soon be 
here to take me to Him. Don’t begin to 
cry now, little woman, for you know you 
have a brave heart, and you must take care 
of mother, and Katy and Johnny, when I 
am gone.” 

Poor little Margie had a hard struggle to 
keep back her tears as Harry spoke ; and 
the good nurse cried a little herself, and 
held frer arms closely around her. 

At last it began to get late, and Margie 
knew that her mother would be frightened 
about her if she stayed out after dark ; and 
then, too, there would be no one at home 
to give Johnny and Katy their supper, and 
put them to bed ; so she told Harry she 
would have to leave him for the night, but 
would be back early the next morning. He 
smiled and shook his head when she said 
that, and while she was putting on her 
wrappings, kept his eyes fixed on her. 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


77 


When she stooped down to kiss him and 
say good -night, he gasped out, “ Good- 
night, and God bless you, too, my little 
sister. Take care of mother.” 

Margie wondered why the nurse turned 
her face away while Harry spoke, and why 
she, too, smiled sadly, and shook her head, 
when she spoke of seeing Harry in the 
morning. 


7 * 


CHAPTER V. 


M ARGIE was tired enough when she 
reached home that night. All the 
anxiety and distress .she had had about 
Harry, and the fatigue of running back- 
wards and forwards between her mother’s 
rooms and the hospital, had been almost 
too much for even her sturdy little spirit. 
So, when she got back from the hospital, 
she would fain have thrown herself on the 
bed, and have cried herself to sleep ; but 
it was no time for her to give way now ; she 
must be up and doing. She * gave her 
mother a nice cup of tea, for she had learnt to 
make very nice tea ; and she burned her little 
face and Ifands trying to toast a piece of 
stale bread, which was all she had to give 
her. Then she gave the children their sup- 
(78) 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


79 


per, and, by coaxing and petting, quieted 
poor little Katy when she began to cry for 
more bread. Johnny asked her where those 
big men had taken Harry; and wanted to 
know why his mamma had been crying so 
all day, whenever she went out. Margie 
told him that Harry had been taken to a 
big house, where there was a kind woman 
who nursed him and took good care of 
him ; but she was afraid he would never 
come back to see them any more, as she 
thought God was going to send his angels 
down and take him up to heaven,' where 
dear papa was. When Margie had put the 
two little children to bed, and had smoothed 
her mother’s pillow, she was glad enough 
to get to bed herself, and her head had 
scarcely touched the pillow, before she had 
dropped to sleep. There she lay after her 
day’s labors, sleeping and dreaming of 
Harry, of heaven, and her dear papa, and 
of her poor sick mamma. Once Mrs. Isham 
heard her sigh in her sleep, and then mur- 


8o 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


mur something like u Look to Jesus, Har- 
ry !” 

The sun had traveled high up in the 
heavens, and the full roar of the noisy 
streets was heard outside, before Margie 
awoke. Her mother watched her sleeping 
so peacefully and quietly, and had not the 
heart to wake her to all the care and sor- 
row of her troubled young life. At last 
she opened her eyes, and started up when 
she found how late it was. She hurried 
through dressing the children, gave them 
and her mother their scanty breakfast, and 
then got ready to go out. Her mother 
called her to her bed-side, and kissed her 
before she went, but, to Margie’s surprise, 
gave her no message for Harry. The little 
girl walked as fast as she could, thinking, 
as she went along, how glad Harry would 
be to see her, and that she would get one 
of his’ sweet smiles when she entered his 
room. Away she hurried, as if she had 
wings on her feet. She did not stop to 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


8l 


notice the pitying look which the old door- 
keeper gave her as he let her in, but has- 
tening on, ascended quickly the stairs, and 
moving noiselessly down the long narrow 
passage, soon reached Harry’s door. It 
was open ; but what did she see ? Harry 
was gone, the nurse was gone, and the little 
bed, all nicely sheeted and looking so white 
and tidy, looked as if it had not been slept 
in for a month. For a minute Margie stood 
in the doorway, confused and dumbfounded. 
She looked up at the door, but there was 
the right number, 288, in gilt letters on it. 
Then the truth flashed upon her — the an- 
gels had come for her brother, and taken 
him to his Heavenly Father. Just then she 
heard some one behind her, and turning, 
exclaimed, as she threw herself into the 
kind nurse’s arms, and gave way to a pas- 
sionate outburst of grief, “ Oh, I did not 
think it would be so soon !” 

“ I knew when you told him good-bye 
last night, that you would never see him 


82 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


again,” the nurse said ; “ and if I had 
only known where your mother lived, I 
should have sent you word early this morn- 
ing” 

“ But, oh ! why did they take him away 
so soon ?” Margie continued, sobbing. 
“ They left papa' with us two or three days 
when he died ; and where have they bur- 
ied him ?” 

The nurse then told her that he was not 
buried, but that, whenever a patient died in 
the hospital, he was taken up and carried 
directly into a large room, away off at the 
end of the building, which they called the 
“ dead-room,” and that Harry's body was 
then lying in that room. She asked her if 
she would like to go to see him, and told 
her she would take her to the dead-room if 
she would. 

“ Oh, no !” Margie said, shuddering ; but 
then the next minute she said, “ yes, she 
would.” 

The good woman, noticing that she was 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


83 


still hesitating, told her to do just as she 
wished. 

“ How does he look?” Margie asked, in a 
frightened whisper — “ Does he look nat- 
ural ?” 

“ Yes, he looks just as if he were asleep,” 
was the reply. 

“Well, I will go then,” Margie said, in a 
quick, decided tone. 

The good woman took her by the hand, 
and they went down a short, narrow, cross 
passage, and then down another long, long 
one, round to the other side of the large 
building. Then they came to a large black 
door. 

The nurse took a key out of her pocket, 
and, unlocking it, entered. Margie clung 
to her skirts as she entered this long, 
gloomy -looking room. She saw several 
narrow tables standing in it, and on one was 
the figure of a man, lying covered with a 
white sheet, which hung in stiff folds from 
his head and his feet. 


8 4 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


The sight made Margie’s blood run cold. 
She grew sick, and felt as if she would 
faint ; but it seemed too late to turn back 
now, and, making a desperate effort, she 
kept back the cry that rose to her lips. 
The next minute she was standing close 
beside the table. The nurse had raised her 
hand to throw back the cloth from the dead 
boy’s face, but Margie seized her arm, and, 
with an hysterical sob, cried, “ Oh, please, 
don’t ! Not yet — just a minute !” 

The nurse looked down at her and was 
startled to see the child’s pale face and ter- 
rified look. 

“ I will take her out, poor little thing !” she 
said to herself; but just then Margie let go 
her arm, and said, in a quick and nervous 
but decided manner — “ Now !” 

The good woman drew the sheet gently 
Sack, and there Margie saw her brother 
lying, looking so pale, so still, so stiff, and 
yet so handsome, with his beautiful hair 
lying so naturally round his forehead ! His 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


85 


countenance was full of peace and tran- 
quillity, while the iron grasp of death 
seemed to have caught and fixed on his face 
his sweetest smile. 

His little sister was as still and silent as 
the dead boy lying before her for some 
minutes, and then, running her little fingers 
through one of the thick curls which clus- 
tered around his head, she looked entreat- 
ingly into the nurse’s face, and said, “ Won’t 
you cut this off for me, please ?” 

The good woman took out a pair of scis- 
sors, and, clipping it off, handed it to her. 
She pressed it to her lips, and then thrust 
it into her bosom. 

In a few minutes more, the sheet was 
thrown back over the face of the dead, and 
he was lost to Margie’s sight forever. 

The nurse took her back as they had 
come, and carried her into her room. She 
pressed her to stay longer, and lie on her 
couch for a little while, but Margie said 
“ No !” she must go back to her mother. 

8 


86 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


Mrs. Isham heard the child when she 
began to ascend the stairs. She heard her 
dragging one foot after the other heavily up 
the steps ; heard her put her little hand on 
the knob of the door and turn it gently, 
and when she saw her pale face appear the 
next minute in the doorway, she knew it all. 
There was no need for Margie to speak — 
her sad tale was told. 

Her mother stretched her arms out to- 
wards her, and, as she pressed her to her 
bosom, asked, in a whisper, “ Asleep in 
Jesus, Margie?” and Margie, drawing her 
arms more tightly around her neck, whis- 
pered back, “ Yes, asleep in Jesus, mamma !” 

Then the mother and little daughter lay 
sobbing in each other’s arms, until, at last, 
Johnny and Katy looked up from their play- 
things, and, seeing their distress, climbed on 
the bed beside them and began to cry too. 

“ Have the angels carried Harry away ?” 
Johnny at last asked of Margie, in a whis- 
per. 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


87 


“ Yes, they have taken him up to heaven 
to be with dear papa,” Margie replied ; 
“ and now you are the only son mamma has 
left, and you must try and be a good boy, 
Johnny. You must not cry and fret for 
more bread when she has none to give you.” 

“ Yes, I will try and be a good boy, 
Margie; indeed I will,” said Johnny; ‘‘and 
then, when I get to be a big man like Harry 
and papa were, I can work and take care of 
you and mamma and Katy too. Can’t I, 
Margie ?” 

Margie smiled sadly, as she said “Yes;” 
but even she, poor child, could not under- 
stand how desperate their condition was, 
now that Harry was gone and they had no 
one to look to. 

Her mother did, however ; and as she lay 
there, with her children clinging to her, she 
prayed long and earnestly to God that He 
would take care of her and her little ones, 
and that He would spare her to them, weak 
and helpless though she was; 


88 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


Her condition was, indeed, a sad one, 
and, in her weak state of health, she would 
have sunk under it but for her faith and 
trust in God. 

During Harry’s illness, she had been 
obliged to sell a great deal of her jewelry 
to pay for his medicines and their support, 
and, one after another, Margie had carried 
the different pieces to the little gray-haired 
old man, wearing m spectacles, who had 
bought the little pearl pin. She was afraid 
to sell any more jewelry or 'any of the 
pieces of plate she had brought from Phila- 
delphia with her, for she counted on selling 
them to paty the house-rent as it fell due. 
She racked her brain to think of something 
which she had that might be sold to buy 
food for her children ; but all that she had 
left were two or three old silk dresses, and 
these Margie must try and sell, for Margie 
was now the only one she had to look to, 
and it made her sigh to look at the poor 
child and see how jaded and careworn she 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


89 


already looked, and: then to think how much 
she had yet to undefgo and to do. 

As soon as she recovered from the first 
shock of Harry’s death, Mrs. Isham wrote to 
Mr. Harvie and told him of their desperate 
condition, but she knew it would be a long 
time before she could hear from him, and, in 
the meantime, she must take care of herself. 

A short time after Harry’s death, Mrs. 
Isham told Margie' she must go down-stairs 
and find out from Mrs. Hopkins where their 
landlord lived, and then let him know that 
she only wanted one room, and could not 
keep the one that Harry had occupied any 
longer. 

Poor Margie had not been out since her 
last visit to the hospital, and she dreaded to 
go out again and make her way among the 
crowd of people who jostled each other 
along the streets ; but she always tried to 
be cheerful when she spoke to her mother, 
particularly when she told her to do any- 
thing ; so she answered, quickly, “Yes, 
8 * 


go . -THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


-mamma;” and having learned where the 
landlord lived, put on her little cloak and 
hood and set out. 

He lived a long way off. Her mother 
had written his street and number on a card, 
and this Margie took in her hand. Many 
a little girl or boy would have been fright- 
ened at the idea of having to go so far 
alone; but Margie was a brave -hearted 
child, who never shrank from doing her 
duty, no matter how disagreeable it was. 

“ I am mamma’s only support now,” she 
would say to herself, whenever she felt like 
faltering ; and then she never failed to pray 
every morning and night that God would 
give her strength to do her duty ; and that 
is a great help, little boys and girls ; for God 
always hears our prayers ; and the way He 
helps us to do our duty is to make us like 
to do it for His sake, and then it is no 
longer a burden but a pleasure. * 

So dear little Margie always felt happy 
when she knew she was doing what she 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 91 

ought to do ; and though it was a cold day, 
and the landlord lived a long way off, she 
trudged patiently along. Two or three 
times she found she was not in the right 
street; but she had been out so much by 
herself since her papa’s death that she could 
take good care of herself, and knew exactly 
what to do ; for whenever she thought she 
was wrong, she went to a policeman, and, 
showing him the card with the street and 
number on it, got him to put her in the 
right street. 

At last, after walking, what seemed to 
her, a long, long way, and a great many 
squares, she reached her destination. The 
landlord, who was a sharp and hard man, 
was touched by the sight of her pale, little 
face, and wanted to know if she had come 
all that distance by herself and on foot. He 
was astonished when she told him she had, 
and he gave her six cents to ride back in the 
street-car. She took the money, but re- 
membering how little bread there was for 


92 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


them to eat at home, walked back, and spent 
the six cents at the baker’s, and returned 
home with a nice fresh loaf. 

In a few days Mrs. Isham found the little 
money she had was all gone, and as she had 
determined to keep her plate and jewelry 
to pay the rent with, she could think of 
nothing she had that could be sold except 
some of her silk dresses. She made one of 
them up into a bundle, and told Margie she 
must take it out and do the best she could 
with it. The child did not know where, 
in the world, to go, for she had only sold 
jewelry, and knew jewelers never bought 
old clothes. She thought of her old friend 
the policeman, however, and asked one 
where she should take an old silk dress to 
sell. He told her in what street an old- 
clothes-monger might be found, and kindly 
showed her the way. 

It was a gloomy-looking street, and ac- 
customed as she was to thread her way 
through the crowded streets alone, yet 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


93 


Margie could not help feeling afraid at 
being in such a place. “ Old clothes for 
sale,” she saw in large letters over the shop- 
doors around her, but she could not bring 
herself to enter any of them, they looked 
so dismal and dark inside. At last, a little 
way up the street, she saw hanging in front 
of a store a sign, on which was written, 
“ Old clothes bought and sold here.” “ That 
is the place for me,” she thought, “and it is 
not quite such an ugly-looking place as the 
other either ;” and holding her bundle 
tightly in her arms, Margie crossed the 
street and entered the store. In it she 
found a crowd of poor people, who had 
come, like herself, to sell a dress, a coat, or 
some article of second-hand clothing ; while 
others had come hoping to buy old clothes 
which were not quite as much worn as the 
rags in which they were shivering. There 
were both men and women behind the 
counters waiting upon the customers ; but 
there were so many people to be. waited 


94 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


upon that Margie had to stand to one side, 
waiting patiently until her turn came. At 
last a fat, red-faced woman beckoned to her. 

“ Come, be quick, little one,” she said, as 
Margie stepped timidly forward. “ I can’t 
wait for you all day. What have you got 
in that bundle there ?” 

“A silk dress of mamma’s that she wants 
to sell,” said Margie, hesitatingly, for the. 
woman’s rude manner frightened the child. 

“A silk dress, eh ?” said the woman taking 
the bundle ; “ and a fine one, too, it has been 
in its day,” she continued as she opened it, 
and the rich, heavy folds of the silk were 
unrolled. She held it up, and turned it 
around, and looked at it for some time, and 
then went back and showed it to one of the 
other women behind the counter. Margie 
saw them whispering over it for some time, 
and, at last, the fat woman came back and 
said, “ Well, I suppose we can buy it from 
you, though it is not so nice as it might be.” 

“ Oh, thank you !” said Margie. \ 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


95 


The woman gave her the money, and as 
she left the store she repeated to herself, 
“ The Lord will provide,” and felt thankful 
to be able to know that when the little bread 
that they had left was all gone, they would 
still have money with which to buy more. 

She found her mother anxiously awaiting 
her return, and she kissed her, and said, 
“ Thank you, my little darling !” as Margie 
put the money into her hands. Mrs. Isham 
was very glad to get it, and felt thankful to 
God that He should keep her supplied with 
. food for her little ones, when she scarcely 
knew from day to day how she should live , 
but she had now only two silk dresses left, 
and they were the last things that could be 
sold for bread. What was to be done when 
they were gone ? Often she would try and 
' not think of it, and would repeat to herself 
the text, “ Take no thought for the mor- 
row but still she could not help being 
haunted day and night by the fe£r that she 
might have to see her children starving 


9 6 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


around her. Margie was her main stay 
and support. Always ready to run on any 
errand, or do anything which her mother 
wanted her to do, and always coming back 
with a bright face. She it was who really 
took care of them all. Her nimble little 
fingers dressed the children in the morning 
and put them to bed at night ; and it was 
her sweet voice which sang to Katy, and 
lulled the child to rest when she had had to 
put her to bed after a scanty supper, or 
oftener still, without any at all. It was she, 
too, who prepared their breakfast and din- 
ner for them every day, and who saved the 
nicest morsels for her poor sick mamma, 
and often even went without her full share 
that the others might have more. 

Her mother continued too sick to get out 
of bed, and so had to be waited on, too. Her 
cough was very bad, and sometimes it 
frightened Margie to see her drop back on 
her pillow,* looking so exhausted and feeble, 
after one of her bad coughing spells; but 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


97 


she would always say she hoped soon to be 
able to get up and move about ; and Margie 
hoped so too. 

Poor little Katy and Johnny often grew 
weary of their play, and would ask their 
mamma why she had left her own beautiful 
room for that horrid place, and couldn’t she 
let them go back to their nursery where 
they used to have such nice play ; or they 
would ask her questions about Harry and 
their papa, which Margie knew distressed 
her poor mother ; or they cried for some- 
thing to eat, which distressed her still more. 
So Margie would tell them stories to make 
them forget about the nice nursery they 
used to stay in at their old home, and to for- 
get, too, their hunger; or she would take 
them out. to walk, though, poor child, her 
little feet were often sore, for she had done 
so much walking that her shoes were Wear- * 
ing out, and did not protect them much 
from the cold. 

Going out on the street was what the two 

9 


98 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


little children liked best, as they loved to 
get out of the dark, gloomy-looking street 
in which they lived, and to see the beautiful 
shop-windows and the gaily-dressed people, 
and handsome carriages and horses dash- 
ing by. But Margie could not take them 
out often, as she did not like to leave her 
mamma alone ; and sometimes they cried 
and gave her trouble, particularly Katy, 
who was a willful little lady, and too young 
to understand that she could not have every- 
thing her own way. Margie was afraid that 
she might slip out of the house some time 
when she was away, and get into the crowd- 
ed streets and be lost. When she took 
Katy out to walk, Margie always left 
Johnny at home, that her mother might not 
be entirely alone ; but when it came to 
Johnny’s turn to go, Katy could not under- 
stand why she should not go too, and Mar- 
gie often had a great deal of trouble in 
quieting her and making her consent to be 
good and stay at home with her mamma. 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


99 


And so, with her sick mother and these two 
little children to take care of, our poor Mar- 
gie had her hands full. 


CHAPTER VI. 



RS. ISHAM had sold her last silk 


A-VJL dress, and the money she had receiv- 
ed for it was nearly all spent. Margie had 
to take the last of it that day and go out 


and buy bread, and when that was gone she 


did not know where she could get any 
more, nor what she could do to keep her 
children from starving. Then, too, she had 
to pay the rent for the room she lived in ; 
not much, it is true, but every little counted, . 
and she had no money to spare to get Mar- 
gie a new pair of shoes, though the poor 
child’s feet were nearly on the ground, and 
it grieved her much to see her going about 
with such holes in her shoes. 

Margie never complained, however, and 
only asked her mother once or twice if she 


(100) 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. IOI 


did not think they could manage in some 
way to save up money enough to buy her a 
new pair of shoes before the old ones were 
quite worn out ; and Mrs. Isham could only 
say that they would try. 

“ Don’t look so sad, dearest mamma,” 
Margie said, as her mother gave her the 
last penny she had in the world to go and 
* buy some bread. “ Don’t look so sad ! 
‘ The Lord will provide !’ Have you for- 
gotten that ?” 

“ No, indeed ! my little daughter,” Mrs. 
Isham replied ; “ but I can’t see what is to 
become of us now, for I have not another 
thing that I can sell,” she continued, as she 
clasped her hai ^s in despair and dropped 
back on her pillow. 

“ But never i iind that, dearest mamma,” 
Margie said, cheerfully ; “ I am going down 
stairs to ask Mrs. Hopkins, who has been 
so kind to us, what we must do.” 

“ My poor child,” said Mrs. Isham, smil- 
ing sadly, “ Mrs. Hopkins is very good, but 
9 * 


102 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


she is almost as poor as we are, and can do 
nothing to help us. She has nothing to 
give !” * 

“ Oh, mamma ! I did not mean that,” 
Margie replied, quickly. “ But you know 
she has a little daughter not very much 
older or bigger than I am, and she goes 
away somewhere to work every day, and 
when she comes back she brings her mother 
some money, and I thought Mrs. Hopkins, 
may be, would tell me where she went, and 
then I could go there, too, and try and get 
some work to do, and so have some money 
to bring back to you at night. Oh, mam- 
ma ! would not that be nice ?” the child said, 
while her eyes danced in her head at the 
bare prospect of making some money for 
her mother and her little brother and sister. 

“ But what work could such a little thing 
as you do ?” Mrs. Isham asked, as she look- 
ed at her, and thought what a tiny, frail- 
looking little thing she was, to be talking 
about work. 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


103 


“ Oh, L am sure I could do something if 
you will only let me try, mamma!” Mar- 
gie cried. “ May I ask Mrs. Hopkins about 
it ?” 

Mrs. Isham told her she might ; so she 
went out, and when she had bought the 
bread and returned to the house, she stop- 
ped at Mrs. Hopkins’s door and knocked. 

“ Come in,” the good woman called out ; 
and when Margie entered softly, she said, 
kindly, “ Oh ! is it you, my little dear ? Come 
in and sit down.” 

Margie then told her what she had come 
•for, and asked her if she would not help her 
try and get some work to do, such as her 
little daughter Lucy did, that she might be 
able to bring money home to mother every 
day, as Lucy did. 

Mrs. Hopkins turned round from the 
table where she was working, and fixing her 
arms akimbo, looked at poor little Margie 
from head to foot with a half-amused and 
half-pitying look. “ You look like work- 


104 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


ing !” she said at last. “ Why, you might 
just as well talk of sending my Jim there 
out to work !” she continued, pointing to a 
cradle in which a baby was sleeping. But 
seeing how crest-fallen poor Margie looked 
at hearing her treat her idea of working 
with so much contempt, she added, “ These 
little ones, however, are the very ones that 
are sometimes the handiest and can make 
themselves most useful.” 

Then she told Margie that her Lucy went 
every day to the sewing-room of a large 
tailor’s establishment where there were a 
great many women at work sewing, and 
that they hired little girls to come and hand 
the different pieces of work to them as they 
were ready for them. 

“ Oh ! I could do that !” Margie cried, 
joyfully, clapping her hands. 

“Yes, my little lady, I don’t know but 
what you could, as you seem to be such a 
brisk little thing ; but then I don’t know 
whether they would have any work at that 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


105 


place to give you ; but never mind,” she 
continued, as she saw poor Margie’s face 
beginning to get long, “ there is no harm 
in trying, and you just ask your mamma to 
let you go, and come down here early to- 
morrow morning and Lucy can take you 
and show you the way, and tell you all that 
you will have to do there.” 

“ Oh ! thank you, Mrs. Hopkins !” Margie 
exclaimed gratefully. “ Mamma will let me 
go, I am sure.” 

Mrs. Isham did agree that Margie should 
accept Mrs. Hopkins’s offer and go with 
her daughter to the place ; and poor Margie 
awoke early next morning and was so much 
afraid that she might not be ready in time 
for Lucy that she jumped right up. 

After giving the children and her sick 
mamma their scanty breakfast, she put on 
her well-worn little hood and cloak, and, 
kissing her mamma, went down to Mrs. 
Hopkins’s room. There she found that 
Lucy was not quite ready, but Mrs. Hop- 


io 6 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


kins told her she was glad to see her begin 
by being too early instead of too late. In 
a little while Lucy was ready, and the chil- 
dren set out. 

Now Margie, like most little people, 
thought herself much bigger than she really 
was, for when Lucy and herself were to- 
gether, Lucy looked ever §o much taller 
and older, and one could see that she was 
much more able to work than our fraiLlook- 
ing little heroine ; but we doubt whether 
she had as stout a heart and as strong a 
little will as Margie. 

“ Don’t your feet hurt you ?” Lucy asked, 
as she looked down at Margie’s worn-out 
shoes, and saw that in more than one place 
she could see Margie’s feet peeping out. 

“Oh, yes, those holes let the cold in!” 
Margie said ; “ but I do not tell poor mam- 
ma how much the cold pavement hurts 
them sometimes, because it would distress 
her, and she can’t give me any more shoes ; 
and then, you know, when I am out on the 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


107 


street, I am thinking so much of mamma 
being sick at home, and wondering, so, how 
much bread the money will buy, or how 
long it will last, that I do not have time to 
think of my poor feet.” 

Lucy asked, then, if she had always been 
so poor. 

“Oh, no, indeed!” Margife replied. “You 
know mamma used to be rich, and then I 
could dress fine, and we children often drove 
out in mamma’s carriage ; but it is n’t that 
way any more now ;” and she sighed, as she 
said so. 

Lucy had never dreamt of riding in a car- 
riage, for her mother had always been a 
plain, poor woman, and it made her stretch 
her eyes to look at the poor little girl trot- 
ting along beside her, and think that she 
had once been rich and a beautifully-dressed 
child with a handsome carriage to ride in. 

After quite a long walk, Lucy said to 
Margie, “ Do you see that great high brick 
house right over there, with those nice white 


io8 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


marble steps leading up to the door ? Well, 
that is the place that we are going to; 
but we don’t go up those fine steps, we 
go in through that narrow door at the 
side.” 

Margie looked up, and she began to feel 
a little frightened when she thought of going 
into a large room filled with strangers, and 
wondered whether they would be cross to 
her. She had no time for any such thoughts 
now, however,* for they had reached the 
narrow side -door, and Lucy was already 
leading the way up a steep and dark flight 
of stairs. They went up and up, until poor 
Margie’s knees ached. 

“ Come on ! We have just one more .flight 
to go up now, for we are not going quite up 
to the stars this time !” Lucy said, cheerfully, 
as they reached the fourth story of the 
house, and she noticed how tired Margie 
looked. 

Poor Margie, however, tired as she was, 
would almost have been glad to have gone 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


IO9 


up a good deal higher rather than enter the 
room full of strangers. 

“ What funny noise is that ?” she asked, 
as she climbed up the steps, puffing and 
blowing, after Lucy. 

“ Oh ! that is only the sound of the sew- 
ing-machines at work,” Lucy said. 

At last they reached the fifth story, and 
through a glass door Margie got a glimpse 
of the inside of a long room, which, the 
next minute, they had entered. 

Margie was, at first, quite bewildered at 
the sight of the bustle and crowd inside. 
All along the front of the building, and on 
one side, there was a row of sewing-ma- 
chines at the windows, with women sewing. 
There were great stacks of clothes standing 
about, and down the middle were long 
tables, at which men were standing cutting 
out the work, while at other tables, lower 
down the room, were both men and women 
pressing out the thick cloth seams with 
great, long, heavy irons. A great many 


10 


IIO 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


little girls were running backwards and for- 
wards between the women at the sewing- 
machines and the men and women at the 
tables. 

There was one nicely-dressed but cross- 
looking man walking up and down, direct- 
ing everything, and seeing that every one 
was busy, while a short, bustling little 
woman, with fierce, black eyes, watched 
over the women at the sewing-machines. 
Some of these looked very tired and sad ; 
all were anxious-looking and pale-faced. 

“ Now, Margie !” Lucy said, “ I belong to 
Number twenty-six, over there !” 

“Number twenty -six?” Margie asked, 
looking in the direction that Lucy pointed, 
and as frightened as if she had expected to 
see a wild beast. “ What is that ?” 

“ Why, Number twenty-six is the lady f 
wait on !” Lucy said, in a surprised tone, as 
if she thought Margie ought to know. And 
then she said, “ You must go up to that 
fussy-looking little woman going about the 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


Ill 


sewing-machines there, and ask her if she 
can give you any work to do.” 

“ Oh, Lucy !” Margie whispered, holding 
tight on to her, “ please go with me. I can’t 
go and ask her all by myself.” 

“ I am afraid she may scold me,” Lucy re- 
plied, hesitating ; but then looking at Mar- 
gie’s beseeching face she said, “ Come on !” 
and went across the room leading her fright- 
ened-looking little companion by the hand. 

The woman was standing talking to one 
of the women at the sewing-machines, and 
Lucy waited until she turned round, when 
she spoke very respectfully to her, and said, 
“ Miss Annie, here is a little girl who wants 
some work to do.” 

Miss Annie — for that was her name — 
looked very hard at Margie, and the poor 
child felt her face turning red as she saw 
her gazing at her old shoes ; but when her 
eye rested on her face, she seemed to feel 
sorry for her, and she asked Lucy, in not a 
cross tone, “ Well, what can she do ?” 


1 12 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


“ She thinks she can run about like the 
rest of us, and take the pieces of work back- 
ward and forward between the machines 
and the tables,” Lucy said, rather hesitat- 
ingly, and looking down on Margie as if 
she herself was not quite so certain. 

“What do you say, yourself,” little girl, 
Miss Annie asked. 

“ Oh ! I am sure I can do what the others 
do,” Margie said, quickly. 

“Well, Lucy, is she a good little girl?” 
said Miss Annie, looking from Margie to 
Lucy. “ Is she very brisk and industrious ?” 

“ Indeed, she is, Miss Annie,” Lucy said ; 
“ and you don’t know how good she is to 
her sick mother, and little brother and 
sister.” 

“ Let me see, then, if I have any work for 
her,” said Miss Annie, as she took a little 
note-book out of her pocket and began to 
run a pencil down a list of names. “ Yes,” 
she said, “ thirty -three has no little runner. 
I will take you to-day and try what you can 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 113 

do ; but, remember, now, you must be very 
brisk and attentive, and not stop from your 
work to listen or look at anything, for I do 
not allow any idle little girls to stay in this 
room.” 

Margie kept her great eyes fixed on Miss 
Annie’s all the time she spoke, and her little 
face looked very grave and anxious. 

Miss Annie then told Lucy to take her to 
number thirty-three. 

“Come this way, Margie,” Lucy said; 
and then, when she had turned off from 
Miss Annie, she whispered to her, “ Why, 
she was n’t cross a bit, was she? But I tell 
you you had better not let her see you mov- 
ing about slowly, or she will speak to you 
very sharply. Stop ! Here is thirty-three ;” 
and the two stopped beside one of the sew- 
ing-machines. Lucy then told the woman 
at work on it that here was a little runner 
Miss Annie had sent to her. 

The woman stopped, and looked with 
astonishment at the timid and delicate-look- 
10* 


1 14 the lord will provide. 


ing child whom Lucy had left standing 
alone beside her. She put her elbow on the 
machine, and resting her pale face in her 
hand, looked at the child for some time. 
Margie stood her gaze without lowering 
her eyes, though she wondered why she 
should look at her so long a time without 
speaking. The woman’s face was a sad * 
one, and her emaciated hand reminded 
Margie of her mother’s. Her figure was 
bent, from constantly stooping over the 
machine, and her eyes had a weary look in 
them. 

“Are you Lucy’s little sister ?” she asked, 
at last. 

Oh, no !” replied Margie ; “ she was only 
good enough to bring me here.” 

“Well! are you here all by yourself?” 
the woman asked. 

“ Yes, by myself ; and I want to get some 
work that I may take some money home to 
mamma at night that she can buy bread. 
That lady over there, whom Lucy calls Miss 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 11$ 

Annie, says she will try what I can do to- 
day ; so, please, give me some work.” 

The woman turned back to her own work, 
and, in a few seconds, the needle of her ma- 
chine was flying and singing as busily as 
those of the forty-nine others in the room. 

After awhile she stopped again, and asked 
Margie what her name was ; and when 
Margie told her, she said, “ Well, you must 
try and forget that name when you are in 
this room.” 

Margie looked startled ; but the woman 
went on, and said, “ Because nobody here 
will call you anything but ‘ Little thirty- 
three,’ that they may know to what machine 
you belong. Do you think you can remem- 
ber to answer to that name ? It is a long 
one for such a little girl.” 

“ Oh, yes !” Margie replied, and she began 
to repeat it to herself, and to wonder what 
her mamma would say if she heard any one 
calling her “ Thirty-three” instead of Mar- 
gie. Just then she heard one of the men 


ii 6 


THE LORD WILL P'ROVIDE. 


over at the table clap his hands together, 
and cry out, “ Little thirty-three ! Little 
thirty-three !” 

The woman at the machine was sewing 
away for dear life, but she spoke, without 
stopping, and said, “ Run over to him ; he 
wants you to bring me a piece of work.” 

Margie remembered what Miss Annie 
had told her about being brisk, so she flew 
across to the table. The man looked at her 
as she held her hand out for the work, and 
said, in a tone of surprise, ‘*Are you Little 
thirty-three ?” and on her saying “ Yes,” he 
put a great heavy piece of cloth into her 
arms, around which she could scarcely 
make them meet, but she ran back with it 
quickly to thirty-three. 

•She had hardly put it down before she 
heard another voice call out, “ Little thirty- 
three, to the press-table.” 

“ What does that mean,” thought the child, 
quite bewildered. But the good woman at 
the sewing-machine again spoke without 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


II 7 


looking up from her work, and said, “ Run 
to that table where they are ironing and 
pressing the cloth.” 

So off Margie sped once more, and return- 
ed with her little arms full. 

“ Do you think you will know your name, 
now,” the woman said, while still sewing. 

“ Oh ! yes, indeed !” Margie cried, in al- 
most a cheerful voice ; “ and I am sure I can 
do this work ; and oh ! I am so glad mam- 
ma let me try,”, she added, as she rested her 
two little hands oh the table of the sewing- 
machine, and watched the needle flying like 
a flash of lightning up and down, and saw 
those white, emaciated hands guide the work 
so easily and pull it through so smoothly .« 

“ Who takes care of your mamma ?” the 
woman asked. 

“ God helps me to take care of her,” the 
child said, while she still kept her eye fixed 
on the busy, flashing needle. 

“ You ! ” said the woman, stopping her 
work and once more bending her sad-look- 


IIS 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


ing eyes full upon her. “ Such a little thing 
as you are, take care of any one !” 

“ Yes,” Margie began, but just then “ Lit- 
tle Thirty-three, little Thirty-three,” was 
heard above the din of the noisy machines, 
and this time she was off before the woman 
had time to remind her that that was her 
name, for she had already learned that, and 
her business too. Thus the day went by, 
and by the time Margie had to leave for 
home she had become used to the bustle 
and noise of the room and to being in the 
midst of so many strange faces. Lucy came 
for her when it was time to go, and the del- 
icate-looking woman at the machine tied 
Ifer hood on for her, and told her she would 
make a nice little “ runner.” It made Mar- 
gie very glad to hear her say so, and though 
the poor little thing was very, very tired 
after all the fatigue and excitement of the 
day, she set out for hom-e with a light heart 
in spite of her aching limbs. “ I will not 
be so tired after awhile,” she said to her- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


II 9 


self,” for I will not be so afraid to come 
again.” 

“ Margie,” Lucy said, as they got out on 
the street, “ is Thirty-three very cross?” 

“ Do you mean the woman I have to stand 
by ?” Margie asked. 

“ Yes,” replied Lucy. 

“ No, indeed,” said Margie, quickly, “she 
is' very sweet and good to me.” 

“Well, that old Twenty -six is awfully 
cross to me,” said Lucy. 

The two children were too tired to talk 
much on their way home ; though Margie 
asked Lucy several questions about to- 
morrow, and wanted to know whether she 
thought Miss Annie would keep her when 
she went back next day, and if she did, 
Wouldn’t she have some money to take 
home to mamma at night? and the poor 
little thing felt happy when Lucy said, yes, 
she expected so. 

When Margie reached home she entered 
her mother’s room with such a smiling face 


120 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


that Mrs. Isham could not help saying, 
“Well, my little daughter, what makes you 
so bright?” 

“ Oh, mamma !” she said, “ because Lucy 
says she expects I will have some money 
to bring to you to-morrow night, and then 
won’t that be nice?” She then climbed up 
on her mother’s bed, and after putting her 
arms around her neck and kissing her and 
calling her her own precious mamma, she 
told her all that had happened that day, 
how tired she had been going up the long 
flights of stairs, then how scared when the 
door opened and she had to go into that 
oig room full of strange men and women, 
and with all the noise of the machines and 
the bustle of persons moving about, but 
while Margie was talking her little voice 
grew weaker and weaker, and presently 
Mrs. Isham found that her little daughter 
had talked herself fast asleep lying in her 


arms. 


CHAPTER VII. 


r I 'IHE next morning-, Margie was up 
bright and early, and she and Lucy 
again set out for the tailor’s establishment. 
Mrs. Isham was getting a little stronger, 
and hoped that she would soon be able to 
sit up in a chair once more. She was cheer- 
ed up, too, by the hope of hearing from Mr. 
Harvie, to whom she had written again. 
Margie felt glad, now, when she went out, 
to know that she was not leaving her mother 
so sick and suffering at home, and that the 
children’s noise would not disturb her. 

It was often a hard struggle for Mtirgie 
to go out, day after day, to work, and the 
child frequently came home crying because 
her feet hurt her so much, and sometimes 
she would nearly give up, and would tell 

( 121 ) 


1 1 


122 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


her mother that she did not think she could 
go out in the cold streets any more. This 
distressed Mrs. Isham very much, but she 
could only try and encourage poor Margie 
and cheer her up when her courage flagged. 
Margie used to wonder if Lucy always had 
enough to eat, and thought how nice and 
warm her feet must feel, as she looked down 
admiringly at her good thick shoes and 
warm, comfortable stockings. “ But never 
mind,” she thought to herself, “ * The Lord 
will provide !’ ” 

When the children reached their destina- 
tion this morning, Margie did not get quite 
so tired walking up the long flights of steps, 
nor was she frightened on entering the big, 
noisy room. She went straight to Thirty- 
three, and there found the same delicate- 
looking woman bending over the sewing- 
machine, and hard at work. She looked 
up, with a faint smile and a “ Good morn- 
ing,” and after a little she spoke to her 
again, without taking her eyes off of her 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


123 


work, and told her that she had better go 
and speak to Miss Annie, and ask if she was 
going to keep her, adding that she hoped 
she would. So, with a beating heart, Mar- 
gie went off and stood near Miss Annie, 
who was talking to some one else. When 
she turned and saw her, Miss Annie stared 
at her for a minute, and then said, Oh ! 
you are little Thirty-three! Well, if you 
will be as good and as well-behaved as you 
were yesterday, I will keep you, and give 
you ten cents to take home every night. 

“ Oh ! thank you,” cried Margie, “ I will 
be very brisk and good and, as* she ran 
back to Thirty -three, she said to herself, 
“ Ten cents will give bread enough for us 
all and when she got back to her place, 
she said to the woman at the machine, 
“ Oh ! she says I may stay, and that she will 
give me ten cents every night to take back 
home to mamma. Is not that nice ?” 

“ Poor child !” the woman said as if to 
herself ; and then, while still making the 


124 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


needle fly, she asked Margie, “ Can you live 
on that ?” 

“ We can get a loaf of bread every day,” 
said Margie. 

Then the woman asked her all about her 
mamma, and her little brother and sister, 
though every few minutes Margie would 
have to fly off as she heard some one call 
out for “ Little Thirty-three but, when 
she was not running, she liked to stand still 
by the sewing-machine, with her little hands 
resting on it, and watch the work, or to 
gaze at the pale face before her, and wonder 
what made it look so sad and careworn, 
and whether she had a sick mother and a 
little brother and sister at home to take care 
of. And often, while she would be looking 
at her so, the woman would raise her soft, 
mournful-looking eyes and meet her look. 

Margie did not know what her name was, 
so once she called her “ Miss Thirty-three 
but the woman laughed, and said, “You 
must call me Mary, when you are talking 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


125 


with me, for that is my name. I am only 
‘ Thirty -three’ when you speak of me to any 
one in this room, for you know they had to 
number all the sewing-machines, and then 
they call the women who work at them by 
the number of the machine ; but when we 
talk together here by ourselves, you will 
call me Mary ; won’t you ?” 

Margie told her she would ; and then she 
asked her if she took her money home every 
night to her mother. 

“ I have no mother,” Mary replied, sigh- 
ing, as she spoke. 

“ Why ! did the angels come after her and 
carry her to heaven as they did papa and 
dear Harry ?” Margie asked. 

“ I don’t know about the angels,” Mary 
replied ; “ but I know she died when I was 
a little child.” 

Then Mary went on to give Margie her 
history, and told how she and her mother 
and father had come to New York when she 
was a little thing. That her father had 


11 


126 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


taken very good care of them as long as he 
lived, but that one evening he went out 
with two men in a boat, and unfortunately 
took his dog with him. While in the boat, 
a storm came up, and the waves running 
very high, the boat was upset and they were 
all thrown out into the water. It was not 
very far from shore, however, and the two 
men swam out. Her father was a good 
swimmer, but his dog kept springing on 
him and pulling him down every time he 
rose, and at last he sank before aid could 
reach him. A few days afterwards his 
body was found thrown up on the shore by 
the waves. When her mother heard of this 
dreadful event, she swooned and fell uncon- 
scious, -and was never well again, though 
she lived some time. When she died, she 
left her daughter entirely alone in the world, 
and she was sent to an orphan asylum. 
There she was taught to read and write 
and to sew on the machine ; and when she 
got old enough to work for herself, the 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


127 


woman who had charge of the orphan 
asylum got the place for her in the tailor’s 
establishment, and there she had been ever 
since. 

“ I have no home,” she said to Margie, 
as she finished telling her story. “ I live in 
the garret of a cheap boarding-house, not 
many squares from here. There I cook my 
own meals, and never seq any one. I have 
nobody to be glad to see me when I get 
back at night. No father nor mother, nor 
sister nor brother to be glad to see me at 
the end of a day’s hard work. Often, too, 
at night, I cough so, that I have to sit 
propped up in bed, and long for the morn- 
ing to come, even though I know it will 
bring nothing but hard work.” 

All the time she had been saying this, 
every now and then Margie would have to 
fly off after work ; but every time she got 
back she would say, while still out of breath, 
“ Now, please, go on, and tell me all, Mary.” 
At last, when Mary finished, she stood look- 


128 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


ing at her and thinking that she would rather 
give up everything for herself, and go half 
barefooted and ragged, too, than have to 
live in the world alone without her dear 
mamma or little brother and sister. Once 
Mary looked up from her work and asked 
her what she knew about the angels, who, 
she said, had come and taken her papa and 
her brother up to heaven. 

“ Why ! don’t you know,” Margie said, 
stretching -her great, beautiful eyes, and 
looking astonished, “ don’t you know that 
God sends his angels after the people that 
He loves when they die, and they take them 
up to live with Him in heaven ?” 

“And who does God love, Margie ?” 
Mary said, anxiously. 

“ Who does He love ? Why, those who 
love the Saviour and believe that He can 
wash all their sins away ; that is what mam- 
ma tells me. Did not your mamma tell 
you that, Mary ?” 

Mary shook her head, and said that she 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. I2g 


was so young when her mamma died, that 
she could not remember what she had told 
her, and that she was afraid she did not love 
the Saviour ; for though she had had a Bible, 
she had lost it, and besides, she never had any 
one to talk to her about him, for she was al- 
ways too sick and tired to go to church 
on Sunday. 

It made Margie very sad to hear any one 
talk about not knowing the Saviour or lov- 
ing him, and she thought she would ask her 
mamma when she went home, to tell her 
some of those sweet messages to repeat to 
poor Mary, which she had given her to take 
to Henry. So when she went home that 
night she told her mamma, that Mary said 
she was afraid she did not love the Saviour, 
nor knew much about him, for she had lost 
her Bible, and could not go to church. 

Now, Mrs. Isham loved Mary though she 
had not seen her, for she loved every one 
who was kind to her little daughter, and she 
was very sorry to hear that she should be 


130 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


living in the world and be so sick and lonely 
too, and yet not know how dearly the Sav- 
iour loved her, nor how He could comfort 
her and make her even happy with his love. 

To live without knowing and loving the 
Saviour, my little reader, is just as if one 
were living in the dark. It is true that 
whether we love Him or not, we have the 
great fiery sun to shine down upon us from 
the sky, and to give light and warmth and 
growth, to everything around us — to make 
the tulip bright in its gaudy colors, and the 
violet in its modest hues ; but this great sun 
does not shine into our hearts — the Sun of 
righteousness, or the Saviour’s love does 
that. Its mild and gentle rays reach our 
hearts and warm them with love to our 
God, and our fellow-creatures ; it warms in- 
to life and growth the little germs of all the 
good feelings and pure thoughts which 
should be in our hearts, and which under- 
the gentle influences of this mild but ever 
shining sjun continue to grow, until they 


I 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 13I 

choke out all the evil thoughts and wicked 
passions which the evil one puts into our 
hearts, and at last makes us meet for the 
kingdom of heaven. 

Mrs. Isham knew if poor Mary could 
learn to know and love the dear Saviour, 
that this heavenly light would shine into her 
heart, and comfort her in the hours of suf- 
fering and loneliness, and so she told Margie 
that she had a little Bible she would let her 
take to Mary, and would mark some places 
in it for her to read. 

“ Thank you, dear mamma,” Margie said. 
“ I knew poor Mary will be so glad to 
get it ; for it is a dreadful thing, is ’nt it, 
mamma, for anybody not to know and love 
Jesus?” 

The next morning when Margie got to her 
work, she found Mary as usual hard at work 
at her machine, and she gave her the little 
Bible, and told her that her mamma had 
sent it to her, and said she must read it 
every night, and pray -to God to teach het* 


132 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


how to understand it rightly, and then she 
knew she would learn to love and know the 
Saviour, whose love could make her so 
happy. 

The poor girl’s eyes filled with tears, as 
Margie told her all this, and handed the 
good little book to her ; and she thanked her 
many times as she slipped it quickly into her 
pocket. Margie thought her eyes looked 
brighter and more feverish, and her pale 
hands thinner, and more tremulous, as they 
drew the work swiftly from beneath the 
busy needle ; and she wondered why she 
coughed so much more than she used to do, 
and why the red spots on her cheek grew 
darker and darker every day. 

That night when Mary got back to her 
gloomy looking little room in the garret, 
and felt so tired that she threw herself ex- 
hausted on her hard bed, she took out the 
little Bible, and it fell open in her lap at one 
of the places that Mrs. Isham had marked. 
She looked, and there the poor sick and 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


133 


weary girl read these comforting words of 
Jesus : “ Come unto me all ye that labor and 
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; 
for I am meek and lowly in heart ; and ye 
shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke 
is easy, and my burden is light and with 
these sweet words sinking down into her 
troubled heart, and soothing her sorrows, 
this poor orphan girl dropped asleep bless- 
ing her "little runner” for having placed 
such a precious book into her hands. 

Things went on smoothly for Margie now. 
She knew all about the work she had to do, 
and though she was the smallest girl in the 
room, she did as much running about, and 
carried as big pieces of cloth, as any of 
them. Mary was as kind to her as she could 
be, and always felt glad when Margie could 
stand beside her for a few spare moments 
and chat with her as she watched her sew- 
ing. She told her to tell her mother that 
she read in her little Bible every morning 


12 


134 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


and evening, and had learned the verses 
marked for her to read. 

Though Mary was so kind to Margie, 
there were others in the room who were 
often cross to her, and among the little girls 
there were some who were bad and hard- 
hearted enough to sneer at her for having 
on such an old dress, and such miserable 
shoes. They never passed her, in running 
backward and forward, that they did not 
say something mean and unkind to her. 
There was one girl — Susie Crouch — who 
used to point at her little feet and laugh at 
her every time she passed her, so that poor 
Margie always went to the tables and ran 
back to her place by Mary as fast as she 
could for fear of some one saying something 
unkind to her. When she was by Mary she 
always felt safe, and Mary told her not to 
talk to any of the' little girls but Lucy, for 
there were some of them who were very 
bad. 

Margie had been in the tailor’s establish- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


135 


ment for about a month, and Miss Annie 
had found that she was the best and most 
attentive little girl in the room, and had 
told her that she was going to give her 
more money to take home to her mamma, 
when a dreadful thing happened to the poor 
child, and destroyed all her hopes. 

Two days after Miss Annie told her that 
she was going to give her more money, it 
happened that one of the men who stood at 
the cutting-out table, took his pocket-book 
out and laid it down on the table for a min- 
ute, and then forgot to take it up. When 
he remembered it a little while afterwards, 
he looked, and it was gone. Now, none 
but the little girls who had come to get 
work for their machines, had been near the 
place where he had put his pocket-book, 
and he thought directly that one of them 
had taken it ; but he was a kind-hearted 
man, and did not like to think such a dread- 
ful thing of any one of them ; and he looked 
all about on the table, and took off the dif- 


136 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


ferent pieces of cloth and shook them ; but 
no ! the pocket-book was not to be found. 
Then he had to go and tell Miss Annie what 
had happened, but he assured her he would 
rather never hear anything of his money 
than to find that one of the little girls in 
that room was a thief. 

Miss Annie was very much shocked, but 
she said she would soon find out who the 
little rogue was, and drive her from the 
house. She then called all the little girls 
up, and made them stand in a row. Now, 
as soon as the men and women saw her do- 
ing this, they all knew that something wrong 
had occurred, and they stopped to see what 
it was. The women who were at the tables 
pressing, the thick cloth with the long, heavy 
irons, stood with their hands resting on 
them. Those at the machines let the flash- 
ing needles rest as they took their feet from 
the treadles and turned round to look, 
while the men who were measuring and 
cutting out the cloth dropped their yard- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


137 


sticks on the table before them and wonder- 
ed what was to pay now. 

Presently it was whispered that one of 
the little girls had stolen some money, and 
Miss Annie was going to find out which of 
them it was. Then the men and women 
from the tables came close up to the row of 
little girls to see on which of them the 
money would be found. It happened that 
Margie stood in the middle of the long row, 
and that Susie Crouch was on one side of 
her. 

Miss Annie began at the end of the row, 
and turned each girl’s pocket wrong -side 
outwards, and felt in the bosoms of their 
dresses to make sure that they had not 
slipped the pocket-book in there. One after 
another she examined them in this way, 
while every one in the room was as still and 
silent as death. At last she came to Susie 
Crouch, and Margie felt frightened for Susie, 
because she looked so confused and pale, 
and was so uneasy. But no ! the missing 
12* 


138 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


pocket-book was neither in her pocket nor 
the bosom of her dress. Margie’s turn 
came next, and Miss Annie smiled kindly 
on her as she stooped to feel in her pocket. 
But, lo ! the next minute, every one ex- 
claimed, “ Oh ! the little thief!” for there 
Miss Annie held up the pocket-book — it 
was in Margie’s pocket ! 

The poor child looked at first confused 
and bewildered, and then, covering her face 
with her hands, burst into tears, as she ex- 
claimed, “ Oh ! some one must have put it 
there !” 

Mary started up from her seat with a cry 
when she saw the pocket -book come out 
of her little pet’s pocket, and, running to 
her, threw her arms around her, and said, 
“ Yes ! I am sure they did, Margie.” 

But Miss Annie, who looked very black 
and angry, spoke to her in a loud, stern 
voice, and said, “ Go back to your seat, 
Thirty-three, you have nothing to do with 
this business ; I can manage it all, and shall 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


139 


drive this little thief out of the house di- 
rectly. Of course, she was going to say, 
that some one had put the money in her 
pocket ; but there is no use in her trying to 
deceive me in that way. She may be thank- 
ful that I don’t send her to jail, the place 
for all thieves, both old and young. Come,” 
she continued, speaking fiercely to the child, 
and turning her round by her shoulders, 
“ come, put on your things and go, and 
never let me see you in this house again !” 

Poor Margie was so frightened that she 
did not know what to do or think ; she only 
knew that she had not taken the pocket- 
book, and that her dear mamma would 
never think she had, no matter how many 
times it should be found in her pocket, and 
she hoped Mary would not either. Nor did 
she ; for, when Margie went back to her old 
place at the sewing-machine and stooped 
down to pick up her little hood and cloak, 
which she always kept under Mary’s chair, 
Mary said to her, without stopping from 


140 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


her work, “ I know you jdid not do it, Mar- 
gie — I know you did not ; but you see I 
can’t do a thing for you or I will lose my 
place ; so good-bye, my little darling, and 
God bless you !” 

Margie felt as if it was all a bad dream, 
while she stood putting on her things ; but 
she held her little head high, and walked 
slowly down the whole length of that long 
room, without minding the jeers that the 
little girls and the men cast at her as she 
went out. She did not turn her head to 
look at them, but she did look at Susie 
Crouch when this girl met her, and began 
to raise her finger to point at her ; and she 
fixed her eyes so steadily upon her, and 
gave her such a look of scorn and reproach, 
that Susie dropped her half- raised hand 
and shrank away like a guilty thing, *for 
Margie suspected, what was the truth, that 
Susie had stolen the pocket-book, and when 
she found that she was to be searched, had 
slipped it into her pocket. Margie knew, 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


141 


however, that there would be no use in her 
saying so, for no one would believe her ; so 
she shut the door of that dreadful room be- 
hind her, feeling that she would rather stay 
at home and starve than to have to £ome 
back among people who could think she 
had committed such a dreadful sin. 

“ Never mind !” she said to herself, as 
she ran down the long flights of narrow 
steps, “ God knows better ! He knows that 
I did not steal the money ; and I know, 
though I now have no work, that ‘ The 
Lord will provide !’ ” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


•• 

T HERE were once more hard times 
ahead for poor little Margie now. 
Those poor little feet of hers, all chapped 
and half- frozen, had many a weary long 
tramp to take through the cold streets of 
the great city, while often her little heart 
would be half-bursting with the care and 
sorrow which dwelt in it. Her mother, it 
is true, was now well enough to sit up in 
her chair, but was still too weak to go out, 
too weak even to help Margie dress the 
children in the morning or give them their 
meals, though now, poor things, they had 
nothing but a dry crust, and were thankful 
if they could always have that. 

When Mrs. Isham heard how Margie had 
been treated at the tailor’s establishment, 

(142) 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


143 


she felt very angry and indignant at first 
with Miss Annie and all the people there 
for having driven her brave, honest little 
girl out of the house as a thief ; but then 
she remembered that they could not help 
thinking she had stolen the pocket-book 
when it was found in her pocket, and that 
Miss Annie was obliged to send her away. 
Only that wicked little girl, Susie Crouch, 
was to be blamed ; and Mrs. Isham knew 
that her sin would find her out some day, 
and felt sure that she must suffer more from 
the pangs of a guilty conscience than she 
and her children did from want of food. 
Margie had hoped that Lucy Hopkins, like 
Mary, would not believe that she had stolen 
the pocket-book, but Lucy did not know 
Margie as well as Maj~y did, and, like most 
children, she believed what everybody said ; 
so, when she heard all the men and all the 
women and little runners saying what a sly 
little rogue that “ Little Thirty-three” was, 
she felt very sorry, but thought there could 


144 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


be no doubt that Margie had really taken 
the pocket-book, and that was the reason 
that she never stopped to speak to Margie 
now, but only nodded her head and ran 
quickly by her whenever she met her go- 
ing in or out of the house ; that was the 
reason, too, that Mrs. Hopkins never went 
to see Mrs. Isham and ask how she was. 

This made Margie feel more sorry .than 
anything else, for both Lucy and her mother 
had been very kind to her, and she could 
not bear that they should think she really 
was a little thief. “ But never mind,” she 
would say to herself, as she would think 
about it, while running along the streets, 
“ never mind, I hope they will find out the 
truth some of these days.” 

Margie had to go very often along the 
back streets and alleys, where the rich people . 
had their coal-ashes emptied, to pick out of 
the ashes the pieces of cinder and half-burnt 
coal which she could find. This was all the 
fuel she could get, and one or two very cold 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


145 


days her mother and the children had to lie 
in bed to keep warm, because they could 
have no fire until she came back with her 
little apron full of cinders. The only way 
she could get money, was to pick up old 
rags and pieces of paper, which she had to 
look for along the streets and in the gutters, 
and sell them. If the weather was not very 
cold, she sometimes took Johnny or Katy 
out with her, for though they were so small, 
they could easily help her pick up rags. The 
poor children liked to go out too, for they 
could not bear to be kept shut up in what 
Katy called that “ old black room,” and they 
were like birds out of a cage when she let 
them go with her. Katy was troublesome 
to take, however, for while Margie would 
be busy going along, and stooping down to 
look for rags, she would run to the end of 
the alley to watch the people and the fine 
carriages go by ; and once or twice, Margie 
had a fright about her — fearing she was lost ; 
but each time she found her standing quiet- 
13 


146 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


ly at the corner, watching what was going 
on in the street. Several times she pointed 
to a carriage, and asked Margie if that was 
not mamma’s carriage, coming to take them 
back to their own nice house ; for the poor 
little thing still remembered how her mam- 
ma’s handsome carriage used to drive up to 
their door on bright sunshiny days, and 
how the children of the house would be put 
in it and driven out into the country, where 
they were allowed to get out and play on 
the green turf. 

Katy did not know how many hundred 
miles she was away from where she used to 
live, and was always expecting this carriage 
to come and take them back to their lost 
home. One day, when it was rather cold, 
she begged Margie to take her out with her. 
But Margie thought she might have to go 
too far for her little legs, and that it was too 
cold. Katy, however, cried so to be allow- . 
ed to go, and said she was so hungry, that 
Margie thought she would worry her mam- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 1 47 


ma if she left her behind, and so agreed 
to let her go. They went a good many 
squares, and Margie had to hold Katy 
tightly by the hand ; and when they came 
to the crossings she had to nearly pull her 
over the gutters. Sometimes Katy would 
drop back and half-twist her little head off, 
looking to see something which had pass- 
ed her; and in this way Margie had to 
drag her along. At last they got to a place 
where Margie thought she could find a 
good many old rags ; so she went down the 
dark, dirty-looking alley, and began to pick 
up the rags and rubbish which she thought 
she could sell. At first, while she was at 
work in the end of the alley, she let Katy 
stand there and look out on the big street ; 
but as she passed down the alley, picking 
up the rags as she came to them, she tried 
to make Katy follow her, for she was afraid 
she might go round the corner, as she some- 
times did, and get out of sight and be lost 
at once among the great sea of people mov- 


I4B THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


ing hurriedly up and down the street ; so she 
said, “ Come Katy, dear, come* and help me 
pick up these rags. Oh, just see how many 
I have found here ! ” But Katy would 
shake her little head and say, “ Oh, only 
wait a minute, Margie ; let me see if this 
is’nt mamma’s carriage coming for us! No, 
it is gone by ; but please, Margie, let me 
stand here a little while longer.” Margie 
could not bear to make the poor little thing 
go along the dirty alley with her, so she let 
her stay, satisfying herself by calling out 
now and then, as she was stooping, with her 
back to the child, “ Little Katy, are you 
there ? ” And her little voice would call out 
in reply, “Yes, Margie.” 

Now Margie had gone right far down the 
alley in the eagerness of her search after 
rags; and it seemed to her that it had not 
been a minute since she had called out be- 
fore, when she once more cried out, “ Little . 
Katy, are you there? ” But no little Katy 
replied this time; and startled by this, 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


149 


Margie raised herself quickly, and turning 
round looked towards the end of the alley. 
Katy was not to be seen. Terrified now, in 
good earnest, Margie threw down all the 
rags she had collected in her apron, and 
flew to the end of the alley. There she 
looked up and down the street, but nothing 
was. to be seen of the child. Once indeed she 
thought she caught a glimpse of the top of 
her little hood ; but on reaching the spot 
where she thought she had seen her, she 
was not to be found, and had either not 
been there, or been swept on by the crowd. 

Margie was now quite frantic with fright, 
and all the nursery tales that her nurse used 
to tell her about gypsies running off with 
little children ; all the stories she had read 
about old women roaming the streets to 
kidnap little girls and take them to the 
theatres where they were to be brought up 
as dancing girls ; all these tales rushed to 
her recollection and increased her terror. 
“ Oh ! ” she said to herself as she wrung her 
IS* . 


150 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 

hands, “ and Katy is such a beautiful child, 
too, that she would just suit them.” 

She ran up and down the streets for two 
or three squares, looking in the alleys and 
cross-streets, and into the stores, where the 
clerks seemed surprised at a ragged, badly- 
shod little girl running wildly in, and after 
looking found, rushing out again. Some- 
times she imagined that she saw her little 
head bobbing up and down in the crowd ; 
but the next minute she saw that it was 
some one else. 

“ Oh, if I had not let her come out with 
me! If I had only made her follow me as I 
went down the alley, she would not have 
been lost!” Margie cried in despair. At 
last, overcome with fright, and the fatigue 
of running up and down the street, she 
threw herself on the sill of a closed door, 
and covering her face with her hands, burst 
into tears. 

She could not sit there long, however, for 
there was not much rest anywhere for this 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


151 


poor little girl. A tall, cross-looking man, 
standing on the inside of the glass door, 
knocked on the pane and motioned to her to 
be off. She rose sadly and slowly, and for 
once this brave little girl’s courage failed 
her. She thought she could never go home 
to tell her mother that she had let Katy get 
lost. She feared it would kill her. 

Suddenly a bright thought struck Margie. 
She remembered how she used sometimes 
to see men going about the streets with a 
short red flag on their shoulders, and ring- 
ing a bell as they cried, “ Child lost ! child 
lost !” and she thought she would try and 
get one to walk the streets and cry the 
same thing for dear little Katy. But she 
had no money to pay any one, and how 
could she manage that? Then she suddenly 
bethought her of her old friend the police- 
man, so the first one she came to she told 
him she was a poor little girl who tried hard 
to take care of her sick mother and little 
sister, and how her little sister had got out 


152 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


of her sight that morning and was lost, and 
that she was afraid to go home and tell her 
mother for fear it might make her so sick 
that the angels would come and carry her 
away, as they had done Harry and papa. 

“ And where are Harry and papa ? ” the 
man asked, looking at her kindly, but as if 
he were amused to hear such a little thing 
talking in that quaint way. 

“ Oh, dead, you know !. ” Margie said in a 
tone of surprise. 

“ And you are the only one your mamma 
has to take care of her ?” the policeman asked, 
as he stood bolt-upright looking down at the 
pitiable-looking figure before him, whose 
gentle and anxious little face was turned up 
to his. 

“ Y es, I am the only one she has left now,” 
she said. 

“ And what do you do ? ” the man asked. 

“ Oh, I pick up rags and old paper, or 
anything that the rag-man will buy from 
me,” she replied ; “ and sometimes I go about 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


153 


all day running my hands through heaps of 
coal-ashes, to try and see if I can get cin- 
ders enough to make a fire for us.” 

The man looked as if he felt sorry for her, 
and then told her that she need not be so 
distressed about her little sister, as he was 
sure she would be found, for that whenever 
a policeman saw a little child lost, he always 
took charge of it, and if he could not find 
out from the little thing where it lived, then 
it was taken down to a place where there 
was a nice house for them to be received in, 
and good kind persons who took care of 
them and gave them plenty to cat, and nice 
beds to sleep on, until their friends came to 
get them. “ And now,” he continued, “ I 
bet your little sister will be there by night.” 
Poor little Margie was so glad to hear all he 
said that she listened to him as if it was an 
angel speaking to her, and she thought he 
was the nicest looking man she had ever 
seen. When he finished, she said : “ But 
how am I to get to that place? I don’t 


154 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


know where it is ! ” The man then told her 
that he would take her there, but that she 
need not go until late, as her little sister 
might not be brought in until after dark ; so 
she had better run home and tell her mother, 
that she might know where she was. 

Margie was very sorry to have to go and 
tell her mamma that Katy was lost, but she 
knew she ought to, so she ran back home. 
Mrs. Isham was very much frightened at 
first ; but when Margie told her all that the 
kind policeman had told her about lost chil- 
dren, and how kindly they were treated, she 
felt relieved, and told her she must go with 
the policeman and do what he told her. 
“ Only make haste and come back, my 
little daughter,” she said, “ for you know 
mamma will be frightened and anxious until 
she gets her two little girls safely back in 
her arms.” 

Just before dark, Margie started out to go 
to the corner where she had seen the police- 
man. Her little cloak and hood were worn 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. I $5 

so thin now that they did not keep her 
warm much, and those poor little feet of 
hers were enough to make ever}" one who 
saw them cry; but she was thinking too 
much of little Katy, and whether she would 
find her down at that nice place, to feel the 
cold, and away she sped along the streets. 
When she got to the policeman, he looked 
at her at first as if he did not remember 
her; but the next minute he said, “ Oh, you 
are the little girl whose sister is lost ; well, 
come on, I can take you down now to look 
for her.” 

He took Margie’s hand and they set out 
together. After they had gone a good way, 
he said, “ Little one, are you not tired and 
cold ? Come, we have not very far to go 
now, and I do not expect that you weigh 
much more than a sparrow ; let us see ;” and 
with that he stooped down and picked her 
up, and she found herself being carried 
along in his great strong arms. He did not 
speak to her again, and Margie thought he 


156 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


must find that she did not weigh much 
more than a sparrow, sure enough, for he 
moved along as easily with her as if she had 
been a doll-baby in his arms; though it 
seemed to her he had to carry her a long 
way. 

At last they went up the steps of a house, 
and he went in. As he put her down, a nice, 
kind-looking woman came up to her and 
said to the man as she put her hand on her 
head, “ Is this a little lost one too ? ” 

“ No,” the man replied, “ but she has a lit- 
tle sister lost, and has come down to see if 
she could find her here. Have many been 
brought in to-day ? ” 

“ A good many,” she replied, and then 
turning to Margie, she asked how her little 
sister was dressed. 

“ In a little, black dress and hood,” Mar- 
gie replied, and her little heart sank as the 
woman said, ‘‘Well then, I am afraid she 
has not been brought in yet.” But the 
policeman who saw how disappointed Mar- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


157 


gie looked, said, “ Oh, well, never mind, 
little one, they will bring her in yet, you 
will see.” The woman then told Margie 
that she had better come and go with her 
through the different rooms to see if she 
might not find her little sister ; so she took 
her by the hand and led her in. They first 
went into the dining-room, where the nice 
supper on the table made Margie almost 
wish she was a lost child too. In that room 
there were four or five children sitting at 
the table, with nurses standing by feeding 
them. They looked sleepy and tired, but 
they did not seem at all frightened, and two 
of them, the woman told her, had been 
there for two days. The woman led the 
way on up-stairs ; but the first room they 
entered was the little boys’ room, and the 
woman said, “ Oh, I forgot, it is a little girl 
you want to find,” and shutting the door she 
went into the room opposite. There Margie 
saw a number of little beds and curly little 
heads resting on the pillows. They were all 

14 


i 5 8 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


fast asleep, and looked as snug and comfort- 
able as if they were sleeping in their own 
beds at home. Two or three women were 
in there to look after them. Margie peered 
anxiously down into the little faces ; but no, 
neither of them belonged to her little Katy. 
The woman nodded her head knowingly, 
and said, “ I thought so,” when Margie told 
her her little sister was not in that room, 
and went on to say that she had not been 
brought in yet. She then took Margie back, 
down stairs into the dining-room, and with- 
out asking her whether she wanted any sup- 
per, told her to sit down at the table ; then 
she put on the plate before her a nice roll 
and biscuit and a big piece of butter, and 
then told her to eat as much as she wanted 
to, as she handed her a cup of nice hot tea. 
Poor Margie ! She had not seen such a 
supper since she had lived in Philadelphia, 
and her eyes danced in her head as she 
looked at it, and knew that she was to eat 
it; but she did not forget her mamma and 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


159 


Johnny, and wished she could share it with 
them. “ Why, it would feed us all for a 
day !” she thought. 

After she had eaten her good supper, the 
kind woman took Margie into a room op- 
posite, which she told her was the reception- 
room, and that every child brought into the 
house was first carried into that room, so 
that she had better sit quietly there by the 
fire and be on the look-out for her little sis- 
ter. Margie, accordingly, sat down to wait 
patiently for Katy. She felt better than she 
had done for a long time, for it had been a 
great while since she had been able to have 
as much to eat as she wanted, but she could 
not help wishing she could take as good a 
supper home to her mamma and Johnny as 
she had eaten. She had not waited long, 
before a great broad-breasted policeman 
came in with a little child in each arm, and 
their little heads dropped down on his shoul- 
ders fast asleep. Margie started when she 
first saw him, but found the next minute 


i6o 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


that neither of the little ones was Katy. 

■ m 

She began to grow very uneasy, and to 
think that one of those dreadful old women 
she had read about, must certainly have 
picked her up and run off with her, and she 
felt like taking a good little cry all to her- 
self, as she sat there in the corner waiting. 
Another policeman soon came in, however, 
with a little one in his arms. Margie sprang 
forward to meet, him, and who should she 
see but Katy, with her eyes wide open and 
looking as bright as possible. 

“ Oh, Katy ! ” she said, “ why did you run 
away from me and frighten mamma and my- 
self so much about you ? ” 

“Well, you see, Margie,” Katy replied, 
“ I went to meet the carriage, and before I 
could meet it this great big man here met 
me and took me up in his arms and carried 
me to a house where they kept me all day, 
and oh, Margie ! ” she continued, clapping 
her hands with delight, “ they did give me 
such a good dinner ! ” 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


161 


“ She is a lively-one, I tell you,” the 
policeman said, as he looked down smiling 
upon the little thing whom Margie held 
tight in her arm's, as if she w T ere afraid that 
she might run away again. After the first 
delight of getting Katy back was over, Mar- 
gie began to think how she could get her 
home. It was night now, and she was afraid 
to go by herself ; and, moreover, it was so 
far that she knew Katy could not walk all 
the way. Just then, however, the kind man 
who had brought her down came in, and 
seeing her with her arms around Katy, he 
smiled good-naturedly and said, “You see 
I told you you would get her back.” He 
then told her that he and the other police- 
man were going back, and they would take 
Katy and herself with them. 

“ Oh, thank you !” Margie cried, joyfully, 
and she soon told the man she was ready. 

“ Come, little sis, let us take up our march 
again,” the big burly policeman said as he 
took Katy up in his arms. Margie followed 
14* 


1 62 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


the other one and they all four went out to- 
gether. Margie took hold of the hand of 
the man who had brought her down ; but 
when they got out on the*street she heard 
him say something about its being a shame 
for those poor little feet to touch the cold 
pavement, and the next minute she was 
taken up in his arms and carried along. It 
seemed to her that they had gone a long, 
long way, when just before they got 
home, the man asked her if she was going 
back to picking up rags the next morning, 
and she said, “ Yes, I have nothing else to 
do” 

“ Well,” he said, “come to me to-morrow 
and I will see if I can find something else 
for you to do.” 

“ Oh, thank you, sir !” Margie cried, grate- 
fully, and in a few more minutes they had 
stopped before the miserable house where 
they lived, and where their mother was anx- 
iously waiting for them to come back. She 
received them with open arms, and thanked 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 163 


God that He had restored her two little 
girls safely to her. 

Directly after breakfast the next morning, 
Margie was off to the square, where her 
good friend the kind policeman stood at the 
corner, walking up and down with his great- 
coat buttoned up to his chin, and his short 
heavy stick in his hand. 

“Oh, you have come, have you?” he said 
in a cheery tone to her. “ Come, follow me, 
now.” Margie did as she was bid, and he 
took her into a confectioner’s shop, where he 
carried her behind the counter, and, speak- 
ing to the big fat man there, said, u Here is 
the little girl I spoke to you about ; she will 
sell your oranges for you, and take good 
care of the money until she gives it to you, 
I will warrant you.” The man, who was a 
German, looked at her for a little while, as 
Margie looked up at him with her clear, 
large, beautiful eyes, and said, “ Veil, she do 
look like she vas von very good leetle gal. 
She is a good size, too, for beople often buy 


164 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


from dese poorleetle ones ven dey vould not 
buy from any oders.” He then told her 
that he wanted her to car ry a basketfull of 
oranges about the streets and sell them for 
him, and he would pay her for every orange 
that she sold. The policeman left the store, 
and the confectioner took down a basket 
and began to fill it with oranges. 

Poor little Margie watched him as he put 
them in, and wondered if the basket would 
be very heavy, and then she thought of 
what cold work it would be, and how her 
feet would ache as she ran about on the 
cold, cold pavement ; but she remembered 
how thankful she ought to be to get some- 
thing to do besides wandering about among 
dirty, dark back-streets and alleys, looking 
for old rags ; or than spending the whole 
day running her little hands through coal- 
ashes, hunting for cinders. At last the man 
said, “ Now, little girl, here is your basket 
all ready for you. Remember here are four 
dozen fine sweet oranges, and every one 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


165 


you can ’t sell you must bring back to me, 
or I will not let you sell any more.” 

Margie took the basket up. It felt right 
heavy, and when she hung it on her arm, 
she had to lean away over the other side to 
keep it from dragging her down. And thus 
the little girl set out on her new business. 
She went up the street and began to cry as 
she had heard the little orange boys do. 
“ Who will buy? Fresh oranges ! fresh or- 
anges ! nice, sweet oranges ! ” At first the 
sound of her little voice, crying out as she 
went along the street frightened her and 
made her feel badly ; but by and b.y, when 
she found that every one did not turn 
around and look at her, she began to take 
courage and to sing out as loudly as she 
could, “ Fresh oranges! Fresh oranges! 
Who will buy nice, sweet oranges ? ” 

The first day. she went out, she sold out 
the basket in an hour or two, and when she 
took the money back to the confectioner he 
was surprised to see her back so soon, and 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


1 66 


with the basket empty. He told her that 
she made a nice little orange girl, and that 
he would give her work every day. And so 
this brave little girl worked hard, and with 
the little money that she earned kept her 
mother and little brother and sister from 
starving. Her mother still managed to pay 
the rent of her room by selling the plate 
which she kept for that purpose, but they 
were dependent on Margie for bread, and 
day by day, in sunshine and storm, through 
snow and sleet, she pushed her way through 
the crowded streets, and her clear, plaintive 
little voice was heard almost like a wail 
above the noisy din of the streets, as her 
cry of, “ Fresh oranges ! Fresh oranges ! 
Who will buy nice, sweet oranges ? ” rose 
from her little lips. Often the basket felt so 
heavy that she thought she would sink 
under the weight, and she shed tears as her 
little feet pressed the icy-cold pavement ; 
but she thought of those at home who look- 
ed to her for bread, and took courage. 


CHAPTER IX. 

E must now leaye our little Margie 



V Y walking the streets by day and cry- 
ing her oranges, or returning home at night 
half-frozen, weary and foot-sore, to drop on 
her hard couch and rest after her day’s la- 


bor. 


Let us turn away, for a little while, from 
that family struggling with want, and con- 
stantly dreading starvation — from that poor 
widowed mother, too sick and feeble to do 
anything to help her noble little girl, whose 
labor alone kept them with bread. Let us 
leave the dark, gloomy-looking street on 
which they live, and go higher up into the 
fashionable part of the town, where the 
streets are wide and clean and bright, the 
houses large and handsome, and everything 


(167) 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


1 68 


shows ease, wealth and abundance. No lit- 
tle girls here have to walk the streets with 
aching feet from daylight until dark; no 
widowed mothers have to pray to the God 
of the widow and orphan for their daily 
bread ; all are rejoicing in the possession of 
elegant houses, beautiful carriages and 
horses, and all that can make life easy and 
luxurious. 

In one of these large houses, there lived a # 
little girl about her age, whose father was 
very rich, and her mother very beautiful. 
She was their only child, and very beautiful 
too. They petted and spoiled her, and made 
her a very willful little lady. She had a 
grown nurse who had nothing to do but to 
look after her and amuse her, and she had 
more dolls and playthings than she knew 
what to do with. Her mother gave her 
beautiful clothes, and whenever she wished 
to drive, a handsome carriage rolled up to 
the door to take her out. Yet this little girl, 
with no wish ungratified, was not any hap- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 169 


pier than our little Margie, whom we have 
left trudging the streets with blistered feet ; 
for she did not, like Margie, live and love to 
work for and please others. She thought 
only of amusing herself, yet she had a 
good heart and often begged her mother 
for money to give to the beggars who 
sometimes found their way to her father’s 
door. 

Now it happened one day that this little 
girl had been particularly cross and peevish, 
and her pretty little face had been several 
times disfigured with pouting lips. She had 
fretted because it was too cold for her to 
drive, and she had fretted because her nurse 
would not take her to walk. Nothing 
pleased her. She kicked her toys and dolls 
about, &nd finally, after having pulled the 
chairs all about the room, and turned every- 
thing upside-down, she went to the window ' 
and fixed herself in a high chair that she 
might look out on the street. Presently she 
heard a clear, shrill little voice crying out, 
15 


170 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 

“ Fresh oranges! Fresh oranges! Who will 
buy nice, sweet oranges? ” 

“ Oh, Bridget ! ” she cried, “ I must have 
some sweet oranges,” and when she looked 
down and saw such a little mite of a girl 
carrying the basket of oranges, she was still 
more anxious to have them, so she knocked 
on the window with her little fingers and 
beckoned to her to stop. She then said to 
her nurse, “ Oh, Bridget ! see how cold she 
looks ; go down and make her come directly 
up here.” 

But Bridget looked out at the little girl 
so poorly clad, and said, “ No, indeed ; I 
can ’t bring that miserable-looking child 
into this house, and faith, just see what 
shoes she has on too.” This made the little 
girl very angry with Bridget, and she said : 

‘‘She shall come up here. Mamma says 
this is my own room, and I can have who- 
ever I please up here. Go down and bring 
her up — don ’t you see her waiting out in 
the cold there ? ” 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


171 


As usual, it ended in Bridget doing as* this 
wilfull little lady told her, for she went down 
and let in the little orange girl, whom you 
have already recognized as our little friend 
Margie. Bridget carried her up-stairs, and 
when she went into the room, Alice, for 
that was the little girl’s name, ordered her 
to set her basket down and let her see her 
oranges. 

“ They are very nice,” Margie said, mod- 
estly. 

“ Well, I must have six* and Bridget just 
count them out and pay her for them,” said 
Alice. 

Bridget did as she was ordered, and Mar- 
gie’s eyes sparkled as Alice put the money 
into her hand. She took up the basket to 
leave at once, but Alice, who had been look- 
ing first at her ragged shoes, and then at 
her beautiful, gentle-looking eyes, said, “ Oh 
no ! don’t go, sit down and get warm.” 

“ You had better let her go, Alice,” Brid- 
get ventured to suggest. 


172 


THE LORD WILL FROVIDE. 


“ No, she shall not go ! ” said Alice, as 
she jumped up and closed the half- open 
door, and then turning to Margie, said : 

“ Now tell me your name ? ” 

“ My name is Margie Isham,” was the re- 
ply. 

“ Well, where are your new shoes?” Al- 
ice asked. 

“ I have none,” said Margie, as her eyes 
filled with tears. 

‘‘But why don’t you buy some?” Alice 
said, as she sat down on a low stool, and 
crossing her little hands rested them on her 
knee, while her beautiful face was upturned 
towards Margie. 

“ Because it takes all the money I can 
make to buy bread for my sick mother, and 
for my little brother and sister,” Margie re- 
plied. Alice’s little face was now filled with 
wondering pity as she listened to Margie. 
Both children were silent for a little while, 
and then Alice said, “ Bridget, bring me a 
pair of my stockings and a pair of shoes.” 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


173 


Now Bridget did not like the idea of Alice 
giving away her clothes without her moth- 
er’s permission ; but she knew she could not 
prevent it, and so she brought out the shoes 
and stockings, and Alice taking them, hand- 
ed them to Margie, and said, “ Put these 
on, won ’t you, your feet look so sore ? ” 
Poor Margie could not help shedding tears 
as she held her hand out and took them, 
for she thought of all that she suffered with 
her poor little feet, and could not believe 
that she was going to have them protected 
from the cold. She set down her basket 
and put on the shoes and stockings, and 
after thanking Alice over and over again, 
she got up to go. 

“ Be sure and bring your oranges this 
way to-morrow,” Alice said to her as she 
went out. 

Poor Margie scarcely knew herself when 
she got out on the street and looked down 
at her feet. She hastened back to the con- 
fectioner, and he was so much pleased at 
15* 


174 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


her having sold so many oranges that he 
gave her two to carry to her little brother 
and sister. She went back home that night 
with a light heart, happier than she had 
been for a long time, and her poor mother 
thanked God when she saw her noble little 
daughter’s feet so nicely covered once more. 

That night, before Margie went to bed, 
she heard some one run up the steps and 
knock at her mother’s door, and when Mrs. 
Isham said, “ Come in,” who should enter 
but Lucy Hopkins. 

“ Oh, Margie ! ” she exclaimed, “ I am so 
glad we have found out that you did not 
take that pocket-book. Everybody knows 
now that Susie Crouch took it, and Miss 
Annie says, “ if you want to come back she 
will be so glad to have you.” 

Poor Margie had seen so much trouble 
and suffering since that day that the pocket- 
book had been found in her pocket, that she 
had almost forgotten all about it ; but now, 
when Lucy told her of Susie Crouch hav- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


175 


ing been found out, she was very anxious to 
know who had done it. 

“ Well, you see,” Lucy began, “ this morn- 
ing she stole some more money out of onq 
of the men’s coat-pockets, for it seems she 
knows all about picking pockets; but for- 
tunately one of the other little runners saw 
her do it, and told on her directly. Then 
Miss Annie told her she must give up the 
money and leave the house at once ; but 
before she left Thirty-three — the one you 
called Mary, said something to Miss Annie, 
and she at once called Susie back and asked 
her if she had not taken the pocket-book 
that had been found on you, and much to 
every one’s surprise, she confessed that she 
had taken it and had slipped it into your 
pocket ; so now every one knows that you 
are the honest little girl that I always 
thought you were ; but you see, Margie, how 
could we know how the pocket-book had 
gotten into your pocket if you had not 
taken it ? ” 


1 76 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


Margie and her mother told her that they 
did not blame her and her mother for think- 
ing that she had taken the pocket-book, for 
of course they could but think she had done 
it when it had been found on her; but they 
had felt sorry that Mrs. Hopkins and Lucy 
should have been led to think that Margie 
could do such a dreadful thing as to steal. 
Mrs. Isham told Lucy to tell Miss Annie 
that she was very much obliged to her for 
her kind message to Margie, but that she 
had rather she should cry oranges than go 
back to the tailor’s establishment ; particu- 
larly as now her little feet were warmly and 
comfortably covered. Margie then asked 
Lucy how Mary was, and whether she look- 
ed as sick and coughed as much as she used 
to do. 

“ Oh, yes !” Lucy said ; “ she coughs a 
great deal more, and looks a great deal sick- 
er ; but, somehow, she does not look quite 
so sad as she used to, and sometimes when 
she has to wait a few minutes for more work, 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


1 77 


I see her take a little book out of her pock- 
et and read.” 

Margie looked at her mother when Lucy 
said this, and they both smiled, for they 
knew that the “ little book ” was the Bible 
that Mrs. Isham had sent her, and they 
knew why it was that, though sicker, she 
should look happier than she had done be- 
fore she had the book, for she had read it 
and found comfort, and though alone in the 
world, now had a friend in the Saviour, 
who loved and supported her in trial and 
sorrow. 

After Lucy had sat a little while chatting 
with Margie and Mrs. Isham, she bade them 
good-night and went back to her mother’s , 
room. That night Mrs. Isham and her lit- 
tle daughter fell asleep in each other’s arms, 
with more joy in their hearts than they had 
felt for many a long day, for they had to 
thank God for two great blessings: first, 
that Margie had at last a pair of good shoes 
to wear, and then that the people at the 


178 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


tailor’s establishment had found she was an 
honest girl. 

The next day when Margie was on the 
street crying her oranges, she went, as Alice 
had told her to do, by her house again. As 
she came near the house and began to cry 
in her clear little voice, “ Fresh oranges,” 
she heard the window-pane rattle as if it 
were about to be broken, and looking up 
saw Alice’s beautiful little face. She was at 
the window on the lookout for the little 
orange-girl, and, as soon as she saw her, 
nodded and beckoned her to stop. Bridget 
then went down as she did the day before, 
and, letting Margie in, carried her straight 
up-stairs. 

Now Alice had been so good and so much 
more patient since Margie’s visit the day 
before, that Bridget did not now object to 
letting her in and taking her up to Alice’s 
room. Alice had been good because she 
felt that she had done a good action in giv- 
ing Margie the shoes and stockings, and be- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


179 


cause, too, in thinking of her frail-looking 
little figure, and of how much her poor little 
feet must have suffered with the bitter cold, 
she had something else to think of beside 
her own pleasure and amusement. For you 
may depend that, whenever we feel cross 
and peevish, and as if we were tired of ev- 
erything, and as if nothing could amuse or 
please us, if we will think of somebody we 
can help, or of some good we can do, and 
will do it, that we shall feel bright and 
cheerful once more, and be more contented 
with ourselves and everybody and every- 
thing about us. Ever since Margie had left 
her, Alice had been thinking of her beauti- 
ful, gentle, patient-looking eyes, and of her 
having said it took all her money to get 
bread for her sick mamma and little brother 
and sister. She had wondered how such a 
little thing could make money enough to 
get bread for herself, much less for any one 
else, and so she was anxious to see her once 
more and ask her all about herself and about 


i8o 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


that sick mother and little brother and sis- 
ter. She was at the window watching for her 
a long time before she came, and had almost 
got into a fret because she was so long in 
coming, when Margie came in sight. She 
met her at the door of her room when Brid- 
get brought her up, and, taking her by the 
hand, led her to a chair and made her sit 
down ; then sitting down herself on a low 
stool, with her hands, as was her habit, 
crossed and resting lazily on her little knee, 
she looked as if she were ready for business. 
“ Now/' she said to Margie, nodding her 
head in her positive little way, “ now count 
out six oranges for me again.” Alice had 
not eaten the six oranges which she had 
bought the day before, but had 'given the 
four she did not eat to Bridget and the 
chambermaid, so as to get them out of her 
sight and have an excuse for buying some 
more when Margie came. But of course 
Margie did not know that, and when Alice 
told her to count out six more oranges, she 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


1 8 1 


thought to herself, “ Dear me, what a won- 
derful little girl she must be to eat oranges 
so fast, and how rich, too, to be able to buy 
as many as she chooses to have !” 

Margie, however, was only too glad to 
find any one who would buy her oranges, 
and thought she would not be sorry if she 
could eat a whole basketful ; so she counted 
them out and laid them at her feet on the 
beautiful, rich-looking carpet ; and as she 
stretched out her little arm to put each or- 
ange down she showed the ragged sleeves 
of her dress peeping out from under her 
little cloak, and each time Alice saw it. The 
last orange was scarcely out of Margie’s 
hand before Alice asked, — 

“ Why do you wear such a ragged dress ? 
Why don’t you buy a new one? Haven’t 
you money enough?” 

“ No, indeed,” said Margie, as she gave a 
hysterical little laugh, “ that I haven’t ; but 
you know I do not mind much my sleeves 
being ragged, because my cloak covers 
16 


182 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


them up and keeps them from the cold,” 
she continued, as she pulled her little 
cloak nervously more closely around her, 
and blushed ; for the poor child could not 
help remembering the time when she was 
dressed as beautifully as the little girl before 
her, and how much ashamed she would then 
have been to have gone before any one with 
a spot on her dress or a torn place in it. 
But Alice was not to be put off in that way ; 
she was only too glad to find that there was 
something else that she could do for the 
poor little girl, and she at once turned to 
Bridget and told her to bring out some of 
her dresses. Bridget tried to remonstrate, 
for she was afraid Alice’s mother, Mrs. Col- 
lins, would not like her to allow Alice to 
give away a dress without her permission, 
and she remonstrated, but in vain, for the 
little lady stamped her little foot and said, — 
“ Bring me the dresses, Bridget, I tell 
you,” and Bridget thinking she had so many 
beautiful dresses, that one the less would 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 1 83 


make no difference, took out two or three 
of the plainest she had and laid them down 
before ‘her on the floor. 

“Now which one will you have?” Alice 
asked Margie. 

“Oh, I don’t care which,” Margie said, 
blushing. 

“ Well, I think this is the prettiest,” Alice 
said, as she picked up the brightest-colored 
dress, “ so you must take this one.” 

Margie had half extended her hand to 
take it, when she dropped it back on the 
basket in her lap and said, — 

“ Oh, I forgot; don’t you know dear papa 
and Harry are both dead, so mamma and I 
wear black dresses, and I could not put on 
that red one.” 

Alice’s, countenance fell, and she looked 
so perplexed and worried, and Margie look- 
ed so worried, too, that Bridget felt sorry 
for them both and said, — 

“ Never mind, Alice, here is a black dress 
of yours, trimmed with red, but you know 


1 84 the lord will provide. 


she can rip off the trimming and then it 
will be a sure enough black dress,” and as 
she spoke she took a little black dreSs trim- 
med with red braid out of the wardrobe 
and handed it to Alice, who jumped up joy- 
fully and said, “ Oh, thank you, Bridget,” 
as she took it and handed it over to 
Margie, who rolled it up and put it in her 
empty basket. 

“The little thing does just like she was 
one of the gentle folks,” Bridget thought to 
herself as she watched her, “ for who would 
ever have thought that the little ragged 
thing would have cared to wear mourning 
for her pa or her brother either ; and what 
beautiful eyes and hair and nice little hands 
she has too ! I wonder if she didn’t used to 
be a lady’s child !” 

Poor Margie was a little bit afraid of 
Bridget, because she had looked so crossly 
at her the first day she came, so when she 
saw her looking so strangely at her, she got 
up to go ; but Alice flew at her as soon as 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


185 


she stirred, and said, “ Oh, no, don ’t go yet ; 
1 want you to tell me about your sick mam- 
ma and your little brother and sister.” Poor 
little Margie, who never saw any one who 
cared to listen to the tale of- her sorrows 
and troubles, brightened up as Alice spoke, 
and her eyes filled with tears as she began 
to speak. She told them how poor they 
were, and that they never had any butter or 
meat to eat with their dry bread, and if she 
did not sell oranges every day, they would 
have nothing to eat, and how good God had 
been to send her to the kind policeman who 
had carried her to the confectioner who 
gave her oranges every day to sell. Then 
she told her how sick her mamma had been, 
and how much afraid she had been that the 
angels would come and take her to heaven 
as they had taken her papa and Harry, and 
how thankful she was that she was now a 
little better. She told her too how Harry 
had been taken sick, and about her mamma 
having been obliged to send him away from 
16* 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


1 86 


her to the hospital, and about her running 
backwards and forwards from her mother’s 
room to his to carry messages from one to 
the other. Then how, that last morning, 
when she get to his door, she had peeped 
into his room and found him gone ; and his 
narrow bed on which she had left him lying, 
was all fixed up and looking as if no one 
had ever been in it ; and how the good nurse 
had met her as she turned away from the 
door and told her he was dead. 

The poor child was talking so earnestly 
that she did not notice that, every now and 
then, Alice brushed her little hands quickly 
over her eyes ; nor, that when she ceased 
to speak, the warm-hearted Irish woman, 
Bridget, wiped hers with the corner of her 
white apron, as she turned her back to her 
for an instant. In all that she had told them, 
however, Margie had not mentioned that 
her father had been rich, and that they had 
lived in Philadelphia. 

Alice had been so much interested in what 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


18/ 


Margie said, that she felt more sorry than 
ever when Margie got up and said she must 
go. Bridget, too, felt as if she would not 
care how long the little thing stayed, for she 
loved to watch her beautiful eyes, and to 
listen to her little tongue as she talked so 
meekly and so gently of all she had suffered, 
and of the hard struggle it was for them to 
live ; so she was glad this time when she 
heard Alice tell Margie to be sure and come 
back the next day. That night, when Mar- 
gie got home, Mrs. Isham could not help 
shedding tears when she saw the nice dress 
her little daughter brought with her, and 
heard how good and kind Alice had been to 
her. She thought, “ Surely God has sent us 
a friend at last in that little girl ! ” Poor 
Mrs. Isham had written so many letters to 
Mr. Harvie, without getting an answer, that 
she had almost ceased to hope for aid from 
him. 

Alice dropped asleep that night, thinking 
of all the sad story Margie had told her, 


1 88 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


and dreamed of her as she lay sleeping- in 
her nice, warm bed ; while Margie, as she 
dropped on her hard, coarse bed, beside her 
mother, fell asleep, praying for the beautiful 
girl who had been so kind to her, and dream- 
ed of the long, cold streets through which 
she would again on the morrow have to 
wend her weary way. 


CHAPTER X. 



HE next day, according to Alice’s re- 


quest, Margie went to her house, and 
Alice again bought her oranges. Thus it 
went on, until, at last, Margie always went 
as a matter of course. Everyday she found 
Alice looking out for her, and Bridget was 
now always ready to run down and let her 
in when she came ; for, since Margie’s visits 
had begun and continued, Alice had been 
like a different child, and had grown so pa- 
tient and gentle, that it seemed to Bridget 
as if Margie had charmed away her evil 
temper and fits of passion. Bridget loved, 
too, to hear her talk, and to look at her 
sweet face. 

Alice had told her mother about the little 
orange girl who came every day/ and of how 


(, 8 9 ) 


I90 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 

sweet and good she was, and how sorry it 
made her to listen to her talking about her 
papa and of her sick mamma, and of her 
handsome brother who had died ; but Mrs. 
Collins had never seen the little girl, and 
had never heard Alice call her anything but 
“ Margie,” so she did not know what her 
other name was. It happened one day, that 
when Margie, as usual, had come, and was 
sitting in Alice’s room, and was talking to 
her and Bridget, she said, “ Oh, Alice !” — for 
the two children called each other by their 
names now — “ mamma says she hopes God 
will bless you for having been so good to 
us, and I know He will, and will do more 
for you than we ever can, for mamma says 
she doesn ’t think we will ever be rich again, 
and that I will have to cry oranges until I 
get big enough to do something else, and 
that does seem to be such a long way off, 
Alice;” and both children sighed as Margie 
stopped ; but Bridget, who was listening to 
her, and who had now learned to love the 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 191 

little thing almost as much as Alice, asked 
her, in a quick tone : 

“ What did you say about being rich 
again? Was your mamma ever rich?” 
“ Yes, indeed ! ” replied Margie, in a tone of 
astonishment. “ Why, papa used to live in 
a great, big, beautiful house, just like this 
one that Alice’s papa lives in !” 

“ Bless, me !” said Bridget to herself ; “ why, 
I always thought the child could not have 
been poor all her life ! I wonder why I never 
asked her before !” and then turning to Mar- 
gie, asked, “ What was your father’s name ?” 

“ John Isham,” Margie replied. 

“ And did he live in Philadelphia ?” Bridget 
asked, eagerly. 

“ Yes,” Margie replied, wondering why 
Bridget seemed so very much surprised. 

“ Then, that is the very same gentleman 
whose house was on the next square to ours 
when we lived in Philadelphia ! ” exclaimed 
Bridget. “ Sure and faith, I must go and 
tell the mistress;” and she rushed out of 


192 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


the room looking as if she had a good piece 
of news to tell Mrs. Collins. 

In a little while, Bridget came back, and 
held the door open for a tall, handsome and 
. stately-looking lady, whom Alice called 
mamma, as she sprang up joyfully to meet 
her, but she pushed her gently back as she 
came forward, and taking Margie’s hand, 
said to her, kindly, “ My little girl, what did 
you say your name was ? ” 

“ Margie Isham,” the child replied, as she 
gazed wistfully into the lady’s face, for the 
sight of her stately appearance and beauti- 
ful dress, reminded her of how her own 
mother used to look in her handsome dress- 
es in the days gone by. 

“ And your father’s name?” Mrs. Collins 
again asked in a kind tone as she waited 
eagerly for the child’s answer. 

“John Isham,” Margie answered, prompt- 

iy- 

“ Yes, that is the same ! ” Mrs. Collins ex- 
claimed, as she looked at the child before 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


193 


her, and said to herself, “ Can it be possi- 
ble?” ' 

Mrs. Collins was silent for a few minutes, 
during which time Bridget turned her back 
as she wiped away a tear, and Alice stood 
watching her mother and woudering what 
she could be thinking of, which made her 
look so very grave. Then Mrs. Collins 
said, “ Bridget, order the carriage, I shall 
go to Mrs. Isham at once?” And stooping 
down, she said to Margie, as she put her 
arm around her, “ My child, I used to know 
your mother when I lived in Philadelphia, 
but I have been living here three or four 
years, and had not heard of your father’s 
death. And so your mother is now poor; 
has it been very hard for you to live, my 
little dear?” 

Margie looked earnestly into the kind 
lady’s face, as if she did not quite under-** 
stand her, and the next minute, throwing her 
arms round her neck, she burst into tears. 
This poor little heart, whose cares had so 
17 


194 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


long been suppressed, seemed ready to 
burst as it throbbed against the rich lady’s 
generous breast. All that she had suffered 
seemed to rush to Margie’s mind as she lay 
her little head upon Mrs. Collins’s shoulder, 
and sobbed as if her heart would break. 

The child had been startled at the first 
sight of Mrs. Collins. Some vague recollec- 
tion of having seen her before at her father’s 
house, had called vividly before her the 
peaceful days of her happy life in that lost 
home ; and when she heard the gentle tones 
of her voice ; when she found that she knew 
her mother was not a miserable beggar; 
when she felt her arms placed tenderly 
around her, a half-formed hope that she in- 
deed might and would befriend them in 
their lonely sorrow, sprang up in her heart, 
and unable to restrain her feelings, she gave 
way to a passionate outburst of tears. 

Mrs. Collins held Margie in her arms for 
a little while without speaking, and then 
told her that she must tell her where her 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


195 


mamma lived, and that she would take her 
back to the place in her carriage. Alice 
heard her at once and exclaimed : 

“ Oh, mamma, please take me with you !” 
And when her mamma told her she might 
go, she ran off at once to put on her hat and 
cloak. Mrs. Collins’s handsome carriage 
was soon at the door, and she got in with 
the children, and told the man to drive on. 

Mrs. Hopkins stopped her work to look 
out of the window when she heard the un- 
usual sound of a carriage stopping before 
the door, and she was amazed when she saw 
Margie in her well-worn cloak and *hood, 
jump out of the carriage with a beautifully 
dressed little girl, followed by an elegant- 
looking lady ; she wondered what on earth 
it could mean. She saw them enter the 
house and heard them going up-stairs to 
Mrs. Isham’s room. While she stood at the 
window, still wondering and admiring the 
beautiful horses prancing before the door, 
she saw a man stop and look up at the 


I96 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


house, then say something to the carriage- 
driver and turn and look again at the house, 
as if he were still uncertain. Mrs. Hopkins 
was dying with curiosity to know what it 
all meant, so she thought this would be a 
fine excuse for trying to find out, and, after 
pulling her cap on straight, smoothing down 
her apron, and rolling down her sleeves, she 
put on her best looks and went to the door. 
She curtsied to the man as she stood hold- 
ing the door half-open ; he returned her 
salutation, and then said to her, “ My good 
woman, can you tell me whether a lady 
named Mrs. Isham lives in this house? ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir, that she do ! ” the astonished 
woman replied. 

“ She is a lady whose little daughter takes 
care of her,” he said in an inquiring tone. 

“ The very same,” Mrs. Hopkins replied, 
wondering where he could have heard any- 
thing about Margie ; “ and there is not 
another such little girl on this side of the 
ocean, or the other either. Why, sir, she has 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


19 7 


walked the streets until her poor, sore little 
feet have almost bled in their tracks !” 

A shudder ran through the man’s frame 
as he listened to her ; he then asked which 
was Mrs. Isham’s room. “ The first one 
you come to, at the head of the steps,” Mrs. 
Hopkins replied. He thanked her for tell- 
ing him, and then hurried up the narrow 
stairs, leaving the poor woman as much at 
sea as ever, as to what all this stir about 
poor Mrs. Isham meant. She heard him 
knock at the door, then enter, and for a few 
minutes there was nothing heard, when, the 
next minute, the whole house rang with a 
wild shriek, coming from Mrs. Isham’s 
room. This was more than good, curious 
Mrs Hopkins could stand, and rushing up- 
stairs, she burst unceremoniously into Mrs. 
Isham’s room, and what did she see ? There, 
with her head dropped back, and looking as 
pale as death, sat Mrs. Isham, supported in 
her chair by the strange gentleman and fine- 
ly dressed lady ; an open letter had dropped 
1 7* 


I98 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


from her hands on the floor beside her. 
Katy and Johnny were standing by scream- 
ing with terror, and Alice clung to her 
mother’s skirts, while Margie stood behind 
the chair holding her mother’s head and 
crying, “ Oh, don ’t die now, mamma ! don ’t 
die now, that we have some one to take care 
of us ! ” 

Though curiosity had made Mrs. Hopkins 
run up-stairs, yet every feeling of the sort 
vanished when she saw the scene before 
her. She saw directly what was the matter, 
and knew what ought to be done. 

“ Lay her down on the floor, directly !” 
she cried, in rather an authoritative tone, as 
she rushed forward to seize Mrs. Isham ; 
“always stretch a fainting person out/’ 
Mrs. Collins and the stranger, who were 
both frightened, and neither of whom knew 
what to do, were glad to obey any one who 
could direct, and the next minute they had 
eased Mrs. Isham from her chair to the floor, 
where, Mrs. Hopkins, pulling her limbs 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


I99 


quickly out straight, began to clap her 
hands and rub her feet, while she called out, 
“ Open the window ! open the window and 
let in some fresh air!” In a few minutes, 
Mrs. Isham began to gasp for breath, and 
then opened her eyes. She looked wildly 
around her for a second, and then, after lying 
very still for a few minutes, said she felt 
better. Good Mrs. Hopkins then lifted her 
emaciated frame as if it had been that of an 
infant, and laid her on the bed, as she said, 
“ I knew it was only a faint ; but there is no 
use freezing the poor lady to death,” she 
continued, as she turned briskly around and 
pulled down the window. 

To explain the meaning of this scene, we 
must go back to the beginning of our story. 
After Mrs. Isham had left Philadelphia, Mr. 
Harvie found that he would have to go to 
Europe, and he left so suddenly that he did 
not write to Mrs. Isham to tell her of his 
departure. While in England, however, he 
visited a brother of Mr. Isham’s, and told 


200 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


him of the destitute condition of his broth- 
er’s widow and children. That gentleman 
gave Mr. Harvie a letter for Mrs. Isham, 
offering herself and children a home, and 
begging her to come and live with him. 
Mr. Harvie returned home, and finding Mrs. 
Isham’s three letters to him, was so much 
shocked to hear of Harry’s death and her 
trouble, that he set out for St. Louis as soon 
as possible. Mrs. Isham was still agitated 
by the unexpected arrival of Mrs. Collins, 
and by her kind offers of assistance when 
Mr. Harvie came in. The sight of him 
brought back the recollection of happier 
and better days, and when he handed her 
her brother-in-law’s letter, and on opening 
it she found that her prayers had at last 
been heard, and a merciful God had sent 
her relief, she could no longer control her 
feelings, and with a wild shriek she fell back 
fainting in her chair. 

As soon as Margie and the two little ones 
found that they had a good uncle who had 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


201 


sent for them to come and live with him, 
and let him take care of them, they were 
quite wild with delight; and when Mrs. 
Collins found that they would be going to 
England, she exclaimed, — 

“ Why we were going to sail for Europe 
ourselves in a short time, and you must 
come, dear Mrs. Isham, to stay with us 
until you go, and then we can all sail to- 
gether.” 

“ Oh, yes, Margie !” cried Alice, having 
now recovered from her fright and being 
made happy by her mother’s invitation to 
Mrs. Isham. “ Oh, yes, Margie, do come ! 
it will be so nice to have you and your little 
brother and sister to stay with us.” 

Margie, Johnny and Katy clapped their 
hands with joy at the prospect of leaving 
that gloomy house forever, and Mrs. Col- 
lins insisted that they should go to her 
home at once. She and Alice took Johnny 
and Katy and carried them to their beauti- 
ful house, and sent the carriage back for 


202 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


Margie and her mother. When Katy was 
taken down to be put in the carriage, she 
was quite enchanted at seeing it standing 
waiting for them. She clapped her hands, 
and her eyes danced with delight as she 
cried out, — 

“ Oh ! I told Margie that the carriage 
would come to take us back home. I told 
her so !” 

Then the great tall coachman picked her 
up and placed her on the back seat of the 
carriage. As she settled herself in the soft, 
silk cushions, she stroked down her short 
little skirts, and looking the picture of de- 
light, and with her face beaming with pleas- 
ure, she cried out, — 

“ Drive us back home now, quick, please.” 

Mrs. Isham and Margie soon joined John- 
ny and Katy under Mr. and Mrs. Collins’s 
hospitable roof, where they lavished every 
care and attention on the poor sick lady 
whom they had rescued from her desperate 
poverty. 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


203 


That night, as Margie sank down amid 
the soft pillows of a luxurious bed ; as she 
thought that she was no more to tread her 
way with aching feet through the thorough- 
fares of the great busy city, she put her lit- 
tle arms around her mother’s neck and said, 
half-sleeping, half-waking, as she kissed her, 
wearily, good-night, “We always said, ‘ The 
Lord would provide,’ didn’t we, mamma ?” 


CHAPTER XI. 


I T was determined, then, that the Col- 
linses and the Ishams should leave for 
New York in a few weeks, and thence sail 
for Europe, In the meantime Mrs. Isham 
was to rest quietly in the kind hands of her 
newly-found friends and gather strength for 
the coming voyage. Every sunny day the 
carriage came to the door, and bright, hap- 
py-looking little faces were seen in it as it 
drove off with the children for their daily 
drive. Margie’s countenance had still some- 
thing of its old anxious look in it, but as she 
saw her mother getting better every day, 
and as she began to realize that the trials 
and sufferings of the past few months were 
not coming back, looks of peace and con- 
tent began to chase away the lines of care 

( 2 ° 4 ) 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. * 205 


and anxiety which had so long rested on 
her lovely little face. 

But amid all her feelings of content and 
peace there was one pale face that often rose 
before our little Margie — that of Mary, and 
she thought of her toiling all day and going 
home at night to lie down in a miserable 
chamber, sick and alone ; and now that she 
was to leave this country and never again 
to return, perhaps, she felt that she must see 
her once more. She asked her mother’s 
permission, and Mrs. Isham having con- 
sented, she set out. This time she reached 
that narrow door, no longer a poorly-clad 
and almost barefooted little girl, trembling 
at the thought of having to enter a strange 
place amid strange faces, but nicely dressed 
and looking so bright that she felt sure no 
one would recognize her as “ Little Thirty- 
three.” She bounded up the long flight of 
stairs and entered softly through the glass 
doors ; the men and women and the little 
runners fell back before the little figure who 
18 


20 6 THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


walked through the midst of them looking 
like a little princess. Some of them knew 
her as the little girl who had been driven 
from that room amid their jeers as a thief. 
Margie did not think of any of these things, 
however, for as soon as she entered the 
room her eye rested on a slight figure bent 
over the sewing-machine, and she passed 
all others unheeded and went straight to it. 
She had reached Mary’s side and was stand- 
ing quietly in her old place, with her little 
hands resting languidly on the machine and 
her large eyes fixed on the flashing nee- 
dle. They had something of their old soft, 
thoughtful look in them, but a little mis- 
chief was lurking in their corners as Mary 
turned and saw her. At first she looked 
confused and bewildered, and then, recog- 
nizing her little pet, she for once forgot 
Miss Annie and every one else, and threw 
her arms around her neck. Margie had now 
a world of news to tell her, and her little 
tongue went almost as fast as the needle, as 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


207 


she stood beside the machine and told Mary 
of the great change that had been made in 
her little life ; and after she had told her all 
she stopped for awhile and asked her how 
she had been getting along. 

“ Oh, very well, Margie,” she replied, 
cheerfully. “ Tell your mamma that the 
little book she sent has been like an angel’s 
visit to me, and that whenever I feel sick 
and weary, I think of the bright things that 
are promised to me in the life to come.” 

Margie smiled as she listened to her, and 
when she saw how much brighter and more 
cheerful she looked than she did the first 
day she saw her, she felt as if it was worth 
almost all the suffering she had endured in 
that horrid room — to have been the means 
of making one acquainted with the good 
book from which she had drawn all her 
comfort and peace. For if she had never 
gone to the tailor’s establishment, Mary 
might never have learned to love the Sav- 


iour. 


208 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


After staying a little longer, chatting with 
Mary, Margie told her she must say good- 
bye, and thus left her. 

As weeks and months rolled by, that 
slight figure was still bending over the sew- 
ing machine ; but, though day by day, her 
face was getting paler, and step more uncer- 
tain, yet her countenance seemed more and 
more peaceful and happy in its expression. 
At last, one day she did not come to her 
work, and day after day passed without her 
place being filled. The poor woman who 
kept the miserable boarding-house at which 
she lived, went up one morning to look after 
her sick lodger ; she reached the door of 
her garret-room and knocked once, # twice, 
and no answer. She opened the door gen- 
tly and looked in, and there she lay on her 
bed, apparently asleep, but when the poor 
woman touched her hand, she started with 
horror, for she felt on it*the icy coldness of 
death. Beside her lay a little Bible, open, 
and a mark was at this verse : “ Blessed are 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


209 


they that mourn, for they shall be comfort- 
ed.” 

At length, the day of departure arrived, 
and they left for New York. Mrs. Isham 
stood the long journey better than had been 
expected, and they reached New York in 
safety. After a short stay there, they were 
off again, and left their hotel one bright day 
to go on board the steamer which was to 
take them across the water. When they 
reached the great huge steamer, they found 
everything in bustle and confusion ; carri- 
ages were crowding down, big trunks were 
being carried aboard the steamer, passen- 
gers were elbowing their way through the 
crowd, and the friends of those going off 
were hurrying to say a last good-bye. At 
length, the captain’s clear, ringing voice 
called out, “ All aboard the people who 
were not going off made a rush for the 
gangway ; the great cables creaked and 
cracked as they were loosened from the 
piers; the steam whistle shrieked ; the gang- 
18* 


210 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


way was raised; the great side- wheels 
splashed furiously in the water, and the 
huge steamer with her precious living 
freight of human beings was at last loosen- 
ed from her moorings. The crowd on the 
wharf waved a last farewell with their hats 
and handkerchiefs, which was returned from 
the well-peopled deck, and, with colors Hy- 
ing, the vessel steamed down the bay. 

Margie soon fell back into her old place 
and duty of taking care of her mother. 
Contrary to their expectation, Mrs. Isham 
stood the voyage better than any of the 
party, and the fresh sea-breezes seemed to 
strengthen and revive her feeble health. 
The children found a number of nice little 
companions among the passengers, and play- 
ed all day long ; sometimes, when the day 
was bright, going out on deck to bask in the 
sunshine, and sometimes playing together 
quietly in the magnificent cabins. 

The days of the voyage passed quickly, 
and at last they arrived in safety at Liver- 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


2 1 1 


pool. Then Mr. and Mrs. Collins with their 
little daughter left Mrs. Isham and her chil- 
dren, as they intended to travel, and were 
not intending to stay long in England. Mrs. 
Isham wrote to her brother-in-law, Mr. 
Robert Isham, and told him of her safe ar- 
rival. He came at once to Liverpool, and 
took his sister-in-law to his own home, 
where the children found a kind aunt and 
three little cousins, Mary, Robert and Grace, 
who were pleasant little playmates for them. 

After spending a month or two at Mr. 
Isham’s, Mrs. Isham moved into a nice little 
cottage close by, where she found a snug 
home prepared for her by her husband’s 
good brother. Margie was not idle now, 
because she had a nice comfortable home to 
live in, but was busy as ever taking care of 
her mother and trying to make all around 
her happy. 


CONCLUSION. 


IVE years have elapsed since we left 



JL' Margie with her mother and little 
brother and sister, settled down in a little 
home of their own. We pass over in silence 
the uneventful years of her life, and ask our 
little readers to peep in with us and witness 
a scene in her mother’s little cottage, where 
she is loved and admired by all around her. 
It is Christmas eve, and something unusual 
must be going on in that happy little home. 
We look in and see a large Christmas tree 
standing in a room decorated with holly 
and mistletoe. The tree is covered with 
pretty presents, and a tall, graceful and 
lovely-looking young girl is giving it a few 
last touches. We look again and recognize 
our old friend, Margie. Sitting in the same 


( 212 ) 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


213 


room is a delicate-looking lady, with deep 
lines of care furrowing her brow, yet, with- 
al, a calm and placid countenance. In spite 
of the number of gray hairs running like 
silver threads through her tresses, we at 
once know that it is Mrs. Isham. But, why 
such a number of presents on the Christmas 
tree? There are a great many more than 
twice enough for Johnny and Katyand their 
cousins too. Ah ! we see, Margie is still at 
her old trade of making people happy, for 
as she opens the folding-doors, a perfect sea 
of little faces and heads are seen in the ad- 
joining room. They are Margie’s Sunday- 
school scholars, and for weeks they have 
been looking forward to this long expected 
pleasure. Bashful joy and gratified curiosi- 
ty beam in their countenances as they enter 
timidly and surround the table. Katy, still 
beautiful, but much taller than when we last 
saw her, begins to lead them up to the tree, 
and helps them find the presents to which 
their names are attached, while* our good 


214 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


little friend Johnny, now a fine manly-look- 
ing boy, prefers to stand by his mother’s 
chair and be a looker-on. The royal fire on 
the earth, the beautiful decorations of the 
room, the bright, happy faces around the 
table, the brilliantly illuminated Christmas 
tree, all sparkling with the pretty presents 
hanging on it — each of which is to carry 
joy to some little heart, present a scene of 
innocent pleasure and enjoyment, which we 
venture to say was not to be excelled in any 
of the happy homes in “ Merry England,” 
that night. 

The door soon opens, and Mr. and Mrs. 
Robert Isham with their three children en- 
ter, having come to witness the children’s 
reception of their presents as the teacher 
they love so well presents them, with a kind 
word to each. 

And there, spreading joy and content 
around her wherever she turns, moving in 
the midst of those whom her kind deeds 
have taught to love and esteen her, still 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


215 


hoping and trusting in the mercy of the 
Lord, we now leave Margie and bid her a 
final adieu. To you, my little readers, who . 
are surrounded by kind friends and live in 
comfortable homes, who have never known 
the pangs of want, and perhaps have yet to 
meet your first real sorrow, to you we 
would say, think of the life of our little he- 
roine. Remember how she was hurled from 
the gilded heights of prosperity to the dark- 
depths of misery and want, and yet, how, 
resting calmly on her faith in God, she was 
able to bear up bravely through all, and to 
carry comfort to many an aching heart. 
While to you, ye little homeless and friend- 
less children, who lie down in sorrow at 
night to rise to a day of misery and suffer- 
ing in the morning ; whose aching and per- 
haps bleeding little feet still tread the great 
thoroughfares of the crowded city ; who 
“ moisten your crusts with your tears," and 
whose prayers for daily bread rise up with 
an earnestness unknown to the children of 


21 6 


THE LORD WILL PROVIDE. 


the rich, to you we would say : Be of good 
cheer ! There is but one God for the rich 
and the poor. He careth for you ; and 
when your little hearts faint within you, 
think how in the moments of her deepest 
distress little Margie could yet raise her 
cheery cry of, “The Lord will provide,” 
and repeat to yourselves the following verse 
of her favorite hymn : 

“ Though troubles assail. 

And dangers affright, 

Though friends should all fail 
And foes all unite : 

Yet one thing secures us, 

Whatever betide, 

The Scripture assures us, 

The Lord will provide.” 


THE END 




























